Broken - A Lucas North Fanfic
by Morrighansmuse
Summary: Nine years ago, Lucas North rescued Alexa George from Russia, only to get imprisoned himself for the next eight years. But when Lucas gains his freedom as part of a prisoner exchange, his return to England sets a series of events that begin to peel off the layers of those who aren't who they appear to be. This story takes place between Season 7, episodes 1 - 2 for Chapter 1 - 2
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

_Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass._  
-Anton Chekhov

The first time she saw him, he was walking along Regent street, his hands in his coat pockets and his head down, deep in thought. She had stared at him for a minute, trying to register the face. The aquiline nose, the thin lips, the dark hair slicked in a sideways part. It was the intense expression on his face that gave him away and when he looked up, she knew.

The moment she said his name in her mind, he saw her and she was certain it was him. She turned her gaze downwards and crossed the street, the light flashing, indicating that the time to cross was over. She ran, her heart beating inside her chest, feeling as if it were about to burst out of her thick woolen coat. Her breath came out in bursts of steam in the air before her.

Alexa George stopped and ducked into a darkened alley, catching her breath. She felt sweat gather upon her brow and her breath came in heaves, the taste of bile filling her mouth.

It felt like a kick to the stomach, seeing him again. Seeing him alive. It had only been what, nine years? But she knew, deep inside her, that it felt like yesterday.

Alexa peered around the corner. The crowd of shoppers milled about, lost in their own lives, shopping for the latest accessory, not noticing her at all. She scanned the crowd, her eyes alighting upon each face but not seeing him. She took a few minutes to do so, as she caught her breath and forced herself to calm down, forcing her mind to think thoughts that had nothing to do with the man she had just seen.

What could she occupy her mind with? The latest fashion? Shoes? Puppies? It was useless. His face invaded her thoughts - alive, breathing, walking along Regent Street, his face cast downwards.

Lucas North. That was his name. Only he'd used a different name when she first met him in Moscow, a memory she barely remembered now for she could not afford to relive it, even for an instant. But against her will, the memories came, rushing through her mind, and she felt faint as she left the alley and began stumbling towards home.

She only remembered his face, the way he had looked at her from the darkened hallway of the club, his blue gray eyes searching her face, studying it as he suppressed an expression of shock. A glimpse of recognition.

Then, as the Russian next to him asked him which of his beauties he preferred, his expression turned into a sneer and for a moment, she thought that what she had first glimpsed in his eyes had been all an illusion. Blind foolish hope.

She had only been eighteen years old then. She had spent half a year in Moscow in a building that housed ten other girls like her in the upstairs apartment while the first floor bustled with business all day and night. A club where teen-age girls danced half naked for men of power, where Mikhael Lubienko conducted business. He was a peddler of information. And he was powerful.

Six months earlier, she had been vacationing with three girlfriends in Paris when one afternoon, Alexa found herself separated from the rest of them at a crowded street festival. When she managed to find someone who could help her, a man who spoke perfect French like she did and who wore something that looked like a police uniform, he shoved her into a dark van and changed her life forever.

He and his men took her and four other girls, huddled inside a dark van, all the way to Moscow. They were forced to take drugs, drugs that left them compliant and helpless. When they arrived in Moscow, she was forced to do things - bad things, terrible things. It was in Moscow that she told Mikhael that she didn't need to do the drugs, that she liked what it was he wanted her to do. She liked the sex, she told him though she knew it was a lie.

She needed to be aware of her surroundings. She needed to escape. Though Mikhael still injected her with the drugs, he began to do it less and less, and soon she was his favorite. She had always been his favorite, his English princess.

To Alexa, it was a much better fate than that of the other girls who, after taking the drugs for so long even just so they could dance for the men, and more when they needed to have sex with them, were left too addicted that they sought it, craved it, and would do anything to get it.

No, Alexa knew she needed to have her wits about her if she wanted to escape. She knew she had to keep her dream alive and fight and fight and fight.

The MI5 operative's name then was Dimitri. He had come in along with another man and she overheard them saying they were looking for "young ones", Dimitri pointing at her with that sneer on his face. Mikhael whistled for her and ordered her to take care of his guests though his attitude towards Dimitri was suspicious at first.

Mikhael could tell that Dimitri was not from around Moscow, that he had been abroad for some time. It was in the accent when he spoke Russian, but Dimitri had come in with excellent recommendations and that was enough for Mikhael. That, and money.

Mikhael was always suspicious of everybody, for it took just one person to dismantle his empire, though it would take an army to destroy all of it.

Alexa had danced in the main room for Dimitri first, watching him take a sip of the vodka as his eyes traveled up and down her barely sheathed body. The main room was crowded with men slumped on couches, drinking and watching the girls entertain them as they danced and slithered on poles installed throughout the room. Some of them were onstage, stripping to the loud music.

Yet some of the men gathered together in the corner, talking business, something that happened almost every night, the women here mere distractions from the business at hand.

Dimitri studied her as she danced in front of him, his brows often knitted in concentration as if he were thinking of something else. So unlike most men who came in here looking for some fun, Alexa thought. Mikhael walked over to talk to him about his recent trip to Ukraine, small talk among men as they watched her. When Mikhael left to attend to the group of men huddled in his favorite corner of the club, Dimitri returned his attention to Alexa. Then he beckoned her to come closer.

"I want you alone," he said in Russian. She took him into her assigned room to take care of him as she was supposed to do with all customers, but when she begun unbuttoning his shirt, he stopped her.

"No, kitten," he said in Russian, taking her hands and moving it away from his chest. "You do not need to."

She stared at him with a longing that she'd almost abandoned. Had it all been a dream - the look she had seen in his eyes when he had first seen her? As if he'd been searching for her and somehow found her. She lowered her eyes, feeling her face heat up, the feeling of shame rushing through.

"What is your name?" He asked and Alexa's eyes snapped up to meet his.

This time he spoke in English, his voice low as not to be heard by anyone close by, even with the door closed. The look in his eyes betrayed his cover, and for the first time since Alexa had been taken, she let her guard down, and prayed that this time, her intuition was right.

"Alexa George," Alexa said, staring at him, her eyes wide with trepidation. The sound of his voice sent shivers up and down her spine, not for the essence of it - low and rich, almost sensuous as the words slipped from his lips. No, his voice was filled with sadness, a realization that it was true. It was her.

Something thumped against the door outside and she jumped. The sound of people laughing, their footsteps fading as they walked the past the room filled the air that had become heavy with her fear.

His hand traced a bruise beneath her eye, hidden by make up but visible under the light. He could see that she was missing a tooth, thankfully not where it could be seen at first glance, though it did nothing to mar her beauty. He understood now why Mikhael called him his prized possession, his princess. His face clouded and he shook his head again when Alexa moved her hands towards his shirt the third time.

"You must let me do something," she whispered, glancing at the door behind her. Next door, they could hear the sound of moans and bodies slapping together. Alexa turned towards the cheap stereo next to the bed, raising the volume. "Sometimes, they come in to make sure we are doing our job."

Reluctantly, he let go of her hands, allowing her to slowly unbutton his black shirt, his skin creamy smooth underneath. She remembered seeing the pulse beating against his neck, his body tensing beneath her touch. She remembered now how she had fixated on that pulse, the throbbing of his skin. It was an anchor to the elusive ship she called hope.

The flash of a tourist's light bulb blinded Alexa for a moment and she staggered, suddenly remembering where she was. The tourist apologized and promptly forgot her, directing his partner to stand in front of the Victoria Secret store behind her. Alexa had walked in front of the camera just as he had clicked the shutter.

The crowds had thinned now as she walked the streets towards home, the memory filling her mind. The sidewalk before her seemed to fade as if she were dreaming, as if she were sleepwalking.

Alexa hurried towards her flat, slamming the door behind her and bolting the locks. It had been over nine years since that night and still, the memories made her weak, her stomach threatening to rebel at the thought of the things she'd had to do all those months imprisoned in Moscow. Those six months had aged her. It had taken away her innocence.

Alexa turned to face her reflection in the mirror on the foyer, her green eyes wide and scared. She never thought the sight of Lucas North now, so many years later, would bring back so much of the memories she'd tried so hard to suppress. She had thought him to be dead, believed him to be dead.

It was the only way to keep the memories from returning.

But as she stared at herself in the mirror, the memories all returned, unbidden and unforgiving. She began to cry. Seeing Lucas had opened that artery, and there was nothing she could do to stop the blood from flowing.

When she'd unbuttoned his shirt, Dimitri let her remove it, slipping it over his shoulders. It was almost gentle, like the movement of a tentative lover, but Alexa knew it was her nerves now, speaking in thunderous hope, praying that this man would finally be able to help her.

"They are suspicious of any foreigner who comes here. It's a miracle you managed to get in," Alexa said. "You have to be careful."  
There was no shortage of supply when it came to little girls and teen-agers willing to travel where there was money, or sold by their own families. Or if they were beautiful enough, neither were they safe enough from Mikhael's men. Such had been Alexa's fate.

Mikhael had seen her with her friends in Paris and followed her for two days before making his move. She'd been a fool to believe in the saying "safety in numbers" for there was no such thing she knew now. All it took was a pickpocket at a street festival, unruly crowds and she had been lost without her purse, phone, or her passport.

Just then, the door burst open and they both spun around to see a burly man standing by the door, a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

"You like her, Dimitri?" Mikhael asked in Russian, and Dimitri responded in the affirmative in Russian. Mikhael took a step forward and brought his hand around Alexa's back, caressing it, and Alexa's skin prickled. She suppressed a shiver, keeping her eyes down. The room was too small for the three of them, the only pieces of furniture were the bed and a nightstand.

The room served its purpose for one thing only.

"We make sure that our guests enjoy their entertainment," Mikhael said, taking a swig from his whiskey. He leaned against the door. "You enjoy, eh? Or I just might think you're coming here to take my little princess away."

Dimitri laughed. "That's outrageous, Mik," he said, but the tone of his voice had shifted. His voice lowered, and his eyes hardened into slits as he looked at Alexa. Be strong, his eyes said.

Behind her, Mikhael crossed his arms over his chest and did not move from the door frame. "I forgot to tell you, Dimitri. I like to watch. Just to be sure you are not a queer - you understand me?"

The silence in the room was deafening. Alexa looked at Dimitri, her eyes imploring him to do what he needed to do. There was no other choice for either of them. Not now.

Dimitri grabbed Alexa by the waist and pulled her towards him. He yanked the straps of her flimsy summer dress off her shoulders, exposing her breasts. Alexa held her breath as she watched him change. This was work now, she thought. Work for him and for her. Maybe he had come for her but for now, her escape was not to be. For him, this act, this conscious violation of her was going to be part of his job, and she could see in his eyes that he was repulsed by it.

He was cold and methodical in his actions, and Alexa pulled herself out of her body, the way she always did when she had to do the things Mikhael and his men made her do. Only this time, she kept getting dragged back, forced to look into Dimitri's blue-gray eyes as they penetrated her very core.

Mikhael stayed for the entire performance, for that was what it was - a performance, at times savage as Dimitri's anger made its way into his lovemaking, as if such a word could be used for it. The entire time he had stared into her eyes and she had stared back, not wanting to let go of his gaze, for fear that he might falter in his unspoken promise and not come back for her. He had become her beacon, that light in the darkness, a glimmer of hope amidst so much pain and uncertainty.

When Mikhael finally left, shutting the door behind him, Alexa collapsed over Dimitri, the tears spilling down her face. She cried for a few minutes as he held her, yet not against his body. No, he couldn't let her be that close to him right now. He thought of Elisabeta, safe in London.

Yet he could not let go of Alexa as she sobbed quietly. Not yet.

"Come back for me," she said. "Whoever you are, come back for me."

Someone laughed right outside the door and Dimitri pushed her away and Alexa tumbled onto the bed. He got dressed in silence, his back to her. She wondered then what he had been thinking, if he was married, and had children. She wondered if he was regretting what had just happened between them. She still didn't know who he was. Alexa only was aware of that feeling that he had been sent to look for her, but a feeling was not a guarantee of freedom, and she felt her hope sink.

She kept thinking about it, feeling her face hot with her tears long after he left the room, leaving her a few bills on the bed, knowing that if he hadn't, it would have aroused suspicion.

A few times since that first encounter, she found herself waiting, her eyes glued to the door, hoping he'd walk in. It would be five days before the officials would come for her. And when they did come with a warrant and under escort of Russian police, Mikhael was livid with rage, demanding to know how anyone had known about her, his English princess.

Alexa didn't know Dimitri's real name till a year later, when her father, a high-ranking Embassy official, let it slip that the man who had been sent to find her had been captured by the Russians. Alexa remembered how her father had broken down then. Nathaniel George had known Harry Pearce since their college days, and had begged the head of the Counter Terrorism department to help him find his daughter, who had disappeared in Paris.

It was a request Harry could not refuse. Alexa George was also his god daughter.

It would take more than four months before they'd receive a lead and when Harry finally did, that a girl matching Alexa's description had been spotted at a Moscow nightclub, he sent Lucas North to find her. It had taken Lucas almost a month to find her, conducted on his own while he was in the midst of a highly classified operation for Section D. The order had come from Harry, and it had been done as a favor to a friend, a trusted superior.

Three weeks later, Alexa was on a plane back home. Her father had personally thanked Lucas for the return of his daughter though Alexa had never met him. But when Lucas himself disappeared in the midst of another covert operation in Moscow almost a year later, there was nothing her father or anyone could do to help the man who'd brought him his daughter back.

The following year, her father died of cancer. Since losing Alexa, the guilt of not being able to find his only daughter for six months had left her father feeling impotent, his power, wealth and influence useless against the men who had taken his daughter away from him. The guilt had eaten him whole, a cancer that devoured him from the inside.

Alexa had watched his life ebb away, and just like that, he was gone and she was alone in the world. Her mother had died in a car accident ten years earlier, hit head-on by a drunk driver who had died as well.

She wondered what would become of her, but Harry had stepped in and helped her , giving her names of psychologists she could talk to if she wanted, and when that did not work out, he gave her the name of someone who could teach her how to handle a gun after he found out through the Grid that she'd attempted to purchase an unlicensed weapon off the streets. Not that Harry could blame her.

She had never felt safe since Paris. She slept with a gun beneath her bed, and when she left the house, she carried one in her purse. She no longer had friends with whom she could carry normal conversations with. Word had gotten around about what happened to her in Moscow and instead of happy faces, she saw their eyes filled with pity, and sometimes, morbid curiosity. Did she like it, all that sex and violence?

Why didn't she try to escape?

Alexa wished she could tell them that she had tried, twice. They'd broken her nose, kicked her teeth in, and she'd endured cigarette burns throughout her back as punishment. She'd been one of the lucky ones. Three of the girls who had tried to escape with her had simply disappeared, and when word of bodies floating in the river came on the news, a mere blip of chatter in the airwaves, she knew instantly what had happened to them.

Mikhael had told her that he spared her because she was his English princess. He would be his forever. It was then that Alexa had decided to kill herself, but two days later, Lucas had appeared.

Since her return to England, things were never the same again, just as she was no longer the same Alexa George who had left for Paris with friends, laughing at the airport and eager to see the world. It was easy to fix the outside scars - the nose, the teeth, the cigarette burns. But there was no way to fix the horrors she had seen and experienced. There was no shutting the movie that played inside her head night after night.

And with Lucas believed to be imprisoned in Moscow, she feared for the life that he lived now - if he were still alive. The look of his eyes, haunted by the thoughts of what she had endured in that awful place, had been tragic enough. It was yet another movie that played inside her head, tormenting her just as it had tormented her father.

She'd asked Harry what was being done for Lucas but he hadn't given her an answer. Instead he had looked away, and since then had only seen him once a year, when he'd accompany her to visit her parents grave on her father's death anniversary.

Three years later, Alexa believed Lucas dead for it was easier to think that his soul was finally at peace. And each year, she lit a candle on the day she met him, to thank him for giving her her life back - whatever was left of it.

Yet as she stared at her reflection on the mirror, a new movie played inside Alexa's head. Lucas North was alive. She could still the see the expression on his face when he'd looked up and caught her gaze, his eyes registering her, seeing her.

Lucas North was broken.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

_And you, you knew the hands of the devil_  
_And you, kept us awake with wolf teeth_  
_Sharing different heartbeats_  
_In one night_

Jose Gonzalez, Heartbeats

The second time she saw Lucas, Alexa was at a hotel bar, and this time, it was he who approached her, his face uncertain at first. His eyes searched her face, studying her features and for a moment, Alexa saw what looked like embarrassment fill Lucas' face, his cheeks coloring, as if remembering their first encounter.

She smiled. "Lucas," she said, extending her hand. "It's been a long time." They shook hands and Lucas asked if he could join her for a drink.

To an outsider, it looked as if they were on a date, perhaps meeting each other for the first time. They seemed shy, keeping their distance from each other, courteous to a fault.

But it was not too far from the truth and Alexa and Lucas knew it. They had met each other during a much different time, when they were both not exactly themselves. She felt as if she knew him, yet she was keenly aware that she knew nothing about him.

She only knew the bits that she'd made up to make him more real during the days when she waited for him to come back for her in Moscow. And afterwards, when she'd heard that he'd been captured, she'd made up more things just to make her believe that he was alright, till one day she believed him dead.

Alexa sipped her drink, avoiding his gaze. The feelings she had felt the first time she had seen him the day before did not surface, and she was grateful for it. She'd been at the shooting range to work it all her feelings out. She did not care what other people thought. The feel of the gun against her skin, the slamming of the recoil against her small hands, was her therapy.

"How long have you been back?" She asked as he ordered a drink. Whiskey.

"Two weeks," he lied. He had barely been back three days, the day before Remembrance Day. He looked drawn, his cheekbones taut against the classic slope of his cheekbones. His thin lips managed a wry smile as he looked around them. "It's like I never left. How are you?"

"Fine," Alexa replied. "I had to go through so much therapy it made my head spin. But I think I'm alright now." This time, she lied.

"Good to know," he said, seeing right through her.

They sat for a while, not speaking. Lucas turned towards her, his expression curious. "How did you know it was me? It's been nine years."

Alexa shrugged. "How could I not know, Lucas. You saved my life, and I can never forget that, even if I wanted to." She'd memorized his face during that night in Moscow, held on to the memory till she returned on English soil and knew that it was all real. She was home.

They returned their attention to their drinks, their eyes absently watching the football game on the television screens overhead. All around them, people laughed and celebrated little moments amongst themselves - a touch on the cheek, a pat on the shoulder, a tender kiss on the lips. Yet they all faded as soon as Lucas turned to face her again.

"We really shouldn't be talking to each other, Alexa," Lucas said hoarsely. The sight of her brought memories of Russia rushing back and he found himself breaking into a sweat. He brought his hand to his mouth, rubbing his chin slowly. He frowned, looking away from her.

Alexa sighed. "We don't have to," she said softly, bringing her hand to touch Lucas' shoulder.

She watched his expression as he looked at her, his blue gray eyes searching her face. He looked pained, drawn. It looked like he didn't sleep very well, the dark circles under his eyes illuminated by the lights of the bar.

"How did you do it? How did you survive? You were so young." He asked.

"You just do," Alexa replied, shrugging. "You'd be surprised how the will to live is so strong. The hope that one day someone will appear and help you. Sometimes it's a useless dream, but you need your dreams. You need hope."

Lucas smiled wryly, returning to his drink. "I know the feeling."

The evening crowd was filling up the bar and Lucas drained his drink and paid the tab for both of them. He got up from his stool, wrestling with his thoughts as turned away from her. The memory of him with his back turned towards her that night came rushing back to Alexa but and she held her breath, her body tensing.

Lucas paused and took a deep breath. He could leave right now, he thought, and leave her to go on with her life, just as he could do the same with his. Instead Lucas turned back towards her. "Would you like me to walk you home?"

Alexa smiled as she gathered her purse and stood up. "You don't need to."

"I'd like to," Lucas said though he could feel the conflicting emotions rise up from deep within his chest. He wanted to tell her how difficult is was to readjust back into society after being gone for so long, how he'd lost so much and that all he had now was MI5, if Harry would take him back, and nothing else. And even that was on shaky ground. Harry didn't trust him.

_I have nothing_, he wanted to tell her.

Lucas smelled the scent of her perfume, faint and flowery, as she brushed past him to head towards the door. She carried herself with such grace. There were no signs that she'd spent six months as a prisoner in some strange land, where the men beat her and raped her each day.

Lucas wanted to see her pain, her bitterness, yet Alexa showed him none of it. He had been racked with guilt when they had had sex under the watchful eyes of Mikhael that night, knowing that he'd never once been unfaithful to Elizabeta till that day. Mikhael had stayed long enough to see that it had been done, and Lucas had never forgiven himself for that one necessary indiscretion. And Alexa had been party to it.

It was a secret only they knew about, a weight that had burdened him for so long.

But now Lucas was alone. Elizabeta had moved on. Everyone he knew had moved on.

Alexa lived just a few blocks from the hotel, something that Lucas knew long before he had come by to the hotel, knowing he'd find her there. He had looked up her information that afternoon, curious. He thought that she had moved on and was probably married, with children of her own and a past that was behind her, never to be remembered.

They walked up the stairs leading to her flat and she unlocked her door. She turned to look at him. Her long brown hair, which had been tied in a loose ponytail, had loosened and Lucas watched it cascade down her shoulder. She pulled the elastic and tossed it on the side-table.

"Would you like to come in?" She asked.

"I don't think it's a good idea," he said, yet Lucas knew he was lying. His eyes looked beyond her shoulder towards the interior of her flat, seeing the books lined up along the shelves, and the furniture, carefully selected and arranged and looking so...lived in. Like she had really settled in.

But then, Alexa had been home for nine years. Lucas had barely adjusted to even the idea of home in the last thirty-six hours. After spending too much time in solitary confinement for years, his flat seemed huge and too open. It left him too vulnerable.

"Well, thank you for walking me home, Lucas," Alexa said. "Maybe we'll bump into each other again."

"Maybe," Lucas replied and turned to walk down the steps. It was a lie, just another one of his lies. He would never see her again.

The night had settled over the city and Lucas walked slowly away, aware that she still stood on the steps watching him leave. As he turned around the corner, he saw that she'd finally gone inside, the door closing behind her.

A feeling of longing filled Lucas' chest, weighing heavily upon him. He felt slowed down, unable to move faster, wishing he were as far away from her as he could possibly be, simply because she brought him back there, back to that awful place. His screams from all the beatings and torture still echoed inside his head, his mind barely registering the change of scenery, unaware that he was already home.

Lucas stopped and stood on the sidewalk for a few minutes. Something tugged at him, forcing him to turn back and stand in front of Alexa again, feel her hands upon his body, her hair brushing against his belly.

She was his connection to his past, and a link to his future. Death and the promise of life chained together. A future where one could move on without revealing pain where it lurked the deepest.

Suddenly Lucas was sprinting, his long legs taking him back to where he had left her. He took the steps two at a time and knocked on her door. She opened it, one hand on the door knob and the other, running her fingers through her hair. A tear ran down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away, embarrassed.

Their eyes met and locked together, as if an unseen understanding between them had been forged from the pain they had both endured for so long.

Lucas had hated himself for what happened between them that first night, with Mikhael watching them from the door. Yet ever since he'd seen her that day on Regent Street, he found himself remembering every single second of that night, of the way she'd looked at him.

It was a loneliness that seemed to burn from the very core of her being, a loneliness he knew too well.

"Bloody hell," he whispered as she closed the door behind him. Lucas gathered her in his arms, feeling the softness of her body against his as their lips met, exploring each other with a deep hunger he hadn't known existed.

It was a hunger that only someone who'd been there with him could quench, someone who had been at that same place as he had been for eight years could understand. There was no tenderness to this meeting, just desperation for some understanding between two wounded souls. An answer to the call of loneliness answered by someone who'd been there, by someone who was still there.

Lucas wanted to devour her and understand her secrets for making it appear so normal. They stumbled through the foyer, bumping on walls and tables, as they shed layers of clothing. She led him to the living room where a fire burned, the room warming up just as their inner fires lit up, consuming them both in a passion so hot it burned through them. As he tore the clothes off her, taking control of her, they tumbled upon the sofa and landed upon the soft carpet before the fire.

It was there that Lucas took her with an urgency he'd never known. It had been so long since he'd been with a woman, so long since he'd felt the sensation of hair gliding upon his skin, the feeling of hands caressing his back, where his tattoos bore witness to his journey. It had been a long time since he'd been held like she held him now.

They kissed as they made furious love on the carpet, and when she brought her arms around his neck, Lucas grabbed her wrists and held them down, holding them there as he entered her, hearing her gasp at the urgency of it all though she was ready for him. He could not let her hold him tenderly. It was as if he were punishing her for moving on, laying claim to her body and wanting to know its secrets.

Their eyes locked as they moved together, her legs wrapped around him. He wanted her to look at him, and she did, even as she came in waves, crying out as he let go of her wrists and held her face between his hands, bringing his mouth down on hers to lay claim upon her lips as her body lay quivering beneath his.

This time no one was watching them. This time there were only the two of them, moving as one, eyes exploring the depths only they knew about. When Lucas came, he clung to her, his hands intertwined with hers and he lay atop her unmoving for some time, breathing heavily. She found his face wet with tears and she shifted on top of him, kissing his face where his tears left their mark.

They did not speak. Their breathing slowed to a calmer pace as she ran her fingers through his hair, her lips soft against his face. Alexa nuzzled his neck gently, feeling this pulse throb beneath her lips as she breathed, not wanting to move.

The savagery of his actions had surprised her but it had not frightened her. Instead it had excited her to feel his want and need of her, to feel his desire of conquering her. Alexa sat up and looked at him, her eyes alighting upon the tattoos upon his torso.

His body had been free of tattoos when she first saw him. That she remembered vividly. She traced the images on his belly, feeling him stiffen as she did so, but he did not stop her discovery of his body.

"Gnothi seauton?" She asked, breaking the silence between them as she traced the words tattooed between his hip bones.

Lucas smiled wryly, his fingers tracing the outline of her breast watching the goosebumps form on her skin as he ran his fingers along her collar bone. "Know thyself."

"And do you?"

"I haven't even scratched the surface," he replied. "Too many layers, too many masks." He continued to stroke the skin above her collarbones, his finger feeling the pulse on her neck. When her hands strayed lower, Lucas leaned back, shuddering at the softness of her touch.

"Don't we all?" She asked and Lucas opened his eyes to watch her. "Wear masks, I mean? If we were to let the masks fall, what will people see but the sadness, the regret. Sometimes it's all that people want to see - how much you suffer. If only to make their own lives feel much better."

Alexa bent her head to kiss the tattoo on his belly, a butterfly kiss that flitted for just a second, only to be replaced by the touch of her soft fingers. She resumed her discovery of his body now, and Lucas thought he saw the child in her, in the way she smiled faintly as her finger ran across one tattoo and then another.

He closed his eyes as he allowed himself to feel the soft touch of her hands upon his skin, feeling her fingers blaze a trail up his belly, towards his chest. There was a tenderness to her touch now as she studied the tattoos gently.

"How do you do it?" He asked. His hands stroked her hair lazily. "How do you move on?"

"You just do," Alexa replied. "Because there is no other choice. You simply move on with your life knowing that your innocence is gone and there's no getting it back. You're still you, even with all the scars that people don't see. Or see."

She rolled away from him and Lucas cradled her in his arm as they lay on the rug together. She turned to face the fire, her back to him and Lucas noticed the intricate tattoo upon her back. He sat up to look at it.

Where her back had been scarred up from cigarette burns and whippings that had torn through skin when she'd attempted to escape Mikhael, a fiercely beautiful Hindu goddess stared back at Lucas, a row of skulls hanging from her neck. As Alexa sat up, the goddess seemed to dance before Lucas.

"It's the goddess Kali," Alexa said, noticing his silence as he stared at her back. "The goddess of creation and destruction. Protector of children."

"It's beautiful," Lucas found himself saying. Fiercely beautiful. He traced the goddess' face with his finger, feeling her skin tremble beneath his touch. Lucas kissed her shoulder gently.

"You're beautiful," he whispered.

She turned towards him and kissed him, this time tenderly. His lips came alive once more and they kissed again, each one taking their time to taste and savor each other. She pushed him back down onto the floor and kissed his chest, her lips trailing down the tattoos that graced his belly till she reached the area just below his navel.

He had almost forgotten how it felt, to be held by a woman, and made love to. It had been too long that he'd lived in so much fear and isolation and Lucas surprised himself with the vulnerability he allowed Alexa to see.

Maybe it was because she'd been there. She'd been there and returned, broken yet unbroken. Tainted but untainted. Only she could understand what he'd been through, what he was going through.

They pleasured each other through the night, the hours filled with conversation meant to learn a little bit about each other and nothing more, and lovemaking. Always the lovemaking, as if quenching a hunger that had stayed with them all those years apart. And when they were finally exhausted, Alexa watched him sleep, watching the shadows from the fire play upon his face, so peaceful in the semi-darkness. In that moment, Lucas looked child-like, free from the nightmares that plagued him.

There was a vulnerability to his features, relaxed now as Lucas slept. The hardness had left his face and Alexa smiled. When she finally let sleep overtake her, the sun was just rising and she knew that when she'd awake, Lucas would be gone, which was just as well.

There would be no good-byes. Not today.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Kudos and BBC. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended._**

As she emerged from Hammersmith station, Alexa wrapped her scarf around her neck, shoved her hands into her coat pockets and began her 20-minute walk towards Liam's boarding school. She could easily have taken her car, but since Liam's admission into St. Barnabas School for Boys a year earlier, she preferred to take the Tube to Hammersmith and walk the rest of the way, except for the Fridays when she'd pick him up after school.

The walk cleared her mind and except for bone-chilly mornings such as this, the walk served as a reminder that long after her six months spent in Moscow as a prisoner, she still felt like one.

Before succumbing to cancer almost seven years ago, Alexa's father had made arrangements for Liam's future without consulting her, considering her too traumatized and too immature to even be told of his plans. He had assigned his close friend, Harry Pearce, to oversee the arrangements he had made for his grandson, and for years Alexa had assumed that the arrangements could easily be changed according to her own wishes. After all, she was Liam's mother.

But Alexa could only remember with bitterness the day she realized that Nathaniel George's missives were to be followed to the letter, that his grandson be admitted to St. Barnabas School for Boys, a prestigious boarding school that had existed since the 1600's. There were other directives, too, but she would only know them when the time came.

Nathaniel George had plotted his grandson's life to perfection.

Alexa could still remember the day Harry visited her and Liam at the house they shared together on Trevor Square, to talk to her about Liam's new school path. It had been an August day, and London was sweltering from a heat wave.

Harry hardly ever came by to see them except once or twice a year, always during Nathaniel's death anniversary, and a few times during the Christmas holidays. There were times she would meet Harry for tea at a local coffee shop, but it always felt as if he were simply making sure that she was alright, for his friend's sake, a promise he had kept long after his friend's death. And one thing that Alexa knew about Harry - he always kept his promises.

"You have no choice in this matter, Alexa," Harry had told her as Liam made his way upstairs to his room to read a book Harry had brought with him as a present: The Wind in the Willows. _You'll need that for your entrance tests_, he had told the boy.

"What if he doesn't pass the tests?" Alexa asked. "What if he fails them all?" A part of her wished Liam wasn't such a voracious reader, a boy who enjoyed reading as much as he enjoyed playing rugby or playing video games with the other children in their Chelsea neighborhood. At seven years old, he was a bright boy with mischievous eyes and an impish grin, his mop of dark hair in dire need of a trim.

Harry pursed his lips, a habit she'd noticed for some time now. He often did it when he was deep in thought, and usually they were serious thoughts. Her father had the same mannerism, and together, the "old fogies" - as her father used to call themselves - would sit by the fire talking about politics and history during their many meetings. During those times, usually after the dinners her mother would make for them all, the men would retire to her father's study while Alexa and her mother watched the latest soap on television.

"He will pass those tests, Alexa. Besides, the tests are mere formalities. His admission has been pre-arranged since he was four years old." Harry walked towards the fireplace and leaned his hand against the mantelpiece. "St. Barnabas is a good school, an excellent institution that's been around for centuries. It is far better than the public school system and you know it."

For a few minutes she was silent, her mind chewing away at the new information. Of course, she knew that St. Barnabas was excellent, if not one of the best schools England had to offer. Her own father had been a student there and as she herself was a product of boarding school while her parents were out of the country for his embassy duties, Alexa could not offer any objection to Harry's statements.

It had only meant that in a month's time, when school would begin in September, Liam would spend his days and nights away from her, leaving her all alone.

It was a development Alexa had never expected, not this soon. Liam had barely turned seven years old and even Harry knew how much the little boy meant so much to Alexa. Liam was her life.

"He will be much better off at St. Barnabas, Alexa," Harry said. He brought his hands on her shoulders and drew her to his chest and Alexa fought back the tears. "It's for the best."

Before he left, Alexa called Liam downstairs to say good-bye to the man her son knew simple as Uncle Harry. Liam had never known his grandfather. Nathaniel had died before Liam turned a year old, though he had pictures to prove that the old man existed. Harry had always told Liam stories about the great man he'd never met, who loved him and watched over him long after his passing.

Even now, Alexa could see the collage of pictures the little boy kept on his bedside table. Among them was one of Harry and her father, Nathaniel cradling Liam as a nine month old baby during one her father's good days, when the pain from his cancer abated long enough for him to spend an hour with his grandson.

As she had watched the two of them talk that day one year ago, first about some of the books Harry had sent him a few weeks earlier - books she later discovered had been the suggested reading list by St. Barnabas - then about the new school Liam was going to attend, Alexa felt jealous. Jealous for the closeness between the two of them, despite the rarity of Harry's visits with Liam.

She had always been so close to her son ever since he was born. She'd slept with him on her bed for years, despite everyone discouraging her from the practice, till Harry himself sat down with Liam, who at that time had been five years old, to tell him that he now had to sleep in his own bed. For that was what big boys did, Harry had told him.

_And wasn't Liam a big boy now?_

St. Barnabas College sat on the south bank of the Thames, its 40-acre property bordered by sprawling meadows and a collection of evergreen and winter-barren trees that hugged the edges of the water bank. If Alexa had driven her car, she would have made her way through rows of buildings where the students lived and then the tutoring facilities, gray three story structures where lessons were taught. Then she would have driven past the tennis courts before turning left onto the parking lot.

This would have been her route on the days when Liam insisted they come over during the rugby games where he could watch the older boys play and still see his classmates during the weekend. But as she had taken the Tube to Hammersmith and then walked the rest of the way, Alexa climbed up the steps of the main building facing Lonsdale Road and walked past the double doors.

She made her way to the main office and cleared her throat, attracting the attention of an older woman sitting with her back towards her, concentrating on some memo on her computer screen.

The woman looked up and an expression of surprise came over her face. "Miss George," she said, getting up from her chair and walking towards the counter to stand opposite Alexa. "What a surprise to see you today. Is everything alright?"

It was a Monday morning and all the boys were in their assigned classes.

"I wanted to know who made the change to Liam's schedule," Alexa said. "I was expecting him last Friday but was told that he is now here full time."

The woman thought for a minute, then a flash of recognition spread across her face as she remembered. "Ah, yes," she said, walking towards another computer behind the counter and tapped on a few keys.

"Liam Nathaniel George," the woman said softly under her breath, her concentration drawn onto information on her computer screen which she seemed to read aloud, mumbling to herself.

"Yes," Alexa said, loosening the scarf around her neck. It was warm inside the office, the heater going on full blast, it seemed. "Miss Crowell, am I right?"

Linda Crowell, a thin woman with short curly hair, straightened her back and smiled at Alexa, nodding. "Yes, Miss George. I've met you a few times in the past. Your little boy is such a delight."

She returned to her task before the computer and a few moments later, walked towards the printer to retrieve a piece of paper. She handed it to Alexa.

"Mr. Pearce came by last Thursday to make the change with the headmaster himself. Weren't you informed?"

Alexa read the document in her hand, fighting the urge to crumple it and toss it away. "I think Mr. Pearce told me but I forgot," she lied, laughing nervously. "I've been out of town."

"Ah," Linda chuckled. "Totally understandable. But as you can see, Mr. Pearce changed Liam's residency status from part-time, where he could come home during the weekends, to full-time. The assigned days should have been in your welcome packet from last year, but I can give you another one if you want."

Alexa shook her head. "No, no, please don't bother. I have it filed in my office so I can just refer to that."

She folded the paper and slipped it into her coat pocket, afraid that the woman would see how much her hand shook. The only people who were designated to be Liam's contacts outside of the school were Harry and herself though it was only Harry and the estate who could make the final decisions regarding Liam's education and stay at St. Barnabas. She wondered if Linda could see such information on the computer screen.

"You could have easily called for that information, Miss George," Linda said kindly. "It's quite chilly out this morning."

Alexa forced a smile. "I needed the walk, Miss Crowell," she said. "I've been sitting on planes far too long."

The lies seemed to slip from her lips so smoothly that Alexa could only wish they were true. It would have certainly made more sense to anyone who would have been listening to them right now, she thought. A mother constantly out of town would not have the time to pick up her only son for the weekends. She was, after all, a single mother.

She wanted to tell the woman how much she missed her son but she didn't. The woman did not need to know her pain any more than she needed to know how helpless she really was and that she had no control even in decisions that involved her own son.

The day after she had spent the night with Lucas, she had gone to St. Barnabas to pick up Liam for the weekend, only to be told that his residency status had changed. He no longer was able to come home to be with her during the weekends. Instead, Liam could only come home during the appointed holidays. But because the admissions office had closed for the week by the time Alexa had arrived to pick Liam up, she had not been able to learn what had prompted the decision. For two days, she had tried calling Harry, but he had not returned any of her calls.

Alexa walked briskly towards Hammersmith station, her expression cold, her thoughts a collection of jumbled memories of the days when Harry had flown her back to England after six months in Moscow. They had considered her such a broken creature, unable to care for herself or make decisions all her own, that even after she delivered her healthy baby boy nine months later, they refused to even consider the name she had chosen for him.

Instead, Nathaniel named the baby himself. Liam had been his own father's name, and of course, his grandson had to bear his own name as well.

The anger Alexa had fought to control the past two days now came roaring deep inside her, wave upon wave of righteous anger that made her face feel hot and her breath come out in shallow gasps. And as she made her way to the station, she stopped and looked out onto the street, her eyes scanning the cars driving by.

Raising her arm, she hailed a taxi and got in.

"Where to, Miss?" A congenial older man with a Scottish accent asked her as she slammed the door shut.

"Thames House, please," Alexa replied, loosening the scarf around her neck and leaning back against the seat rest.

The time for waiting for Harry's call was over.


	4. Chapter 4

Thames House in London was the central headquarters for MI5 and second home to people like Harry Pearce, who headed the Counter-Terrorism department. Alexa had first set foot on Section D, as Harry called it, when she first returned from Moscow nine years before.

She was nineteen then, and when Harry had met her on the airplane that would take her home to London, she looked nothing like the girl he had remembered a year before. She had looked like a child in her oversized coat jacket, her hair disheveled, and her lip split from the last of Mikhael's beatings. Beneath the coat, he found her arm broken where Mikhael had kicked it and immediately Harry ordered something to one of the women who stood next to him, prompting her to run off inside the plane in search for medical supplies.

Without any hesitation, Harry had literally carried her into the first class cabin, her legs having given way beneath her at the realization that it was all real, that Lucas had succeeded in his unspoken promise to get her home. As she slept, Harry had bathed her wounds with warm compresses and brushed her hair that had been in knotty tangles around her thin face.

He'd provided her with new clothes to wear before the plane landed at Heathrow and informed her that he would have to take her to Section D where her father would be waiting for her. They arrived almost at midnight when thankfully, the lobby of Thames House was deserted except for the staff assigned to check employees in and out of the building.

Alexa's memories of stepping onto the lobby were hazy but she didn't mind. What had mattered then was that she was finally home, and her nightmare was finally over.

The man at one of the desks designated to check guests eyed Alexa suspiciously as she surrendered her purse, glad that she'd decided not to pack her gun inside. Since seeing Lucas last week, she felt safer knowing he was back in London - surely just a silly girl's thought - and she had since hidden her two guns in her closet, high up on the shelves where she was certain Liam would never have access to.

She'd made sure to empty the magazine, storing them in a separate shelf. Though Alexa knew she was a much better shot than she admitted herself to be, she hoped she would never have to fire the gun at anyone ever.

Alexa watched as the man behind the counter picked up the phone to call Harry and after a few words spoken in a low voice, he looked up, his creased brow smoothening. He hung up the phone and tapped a few buttons on the console. Within minutes, a man in a dark suit approached them.

"Visitor for Harry Pearce," he said to the newcomer and to Alexa: "He'll be escorting you, miss."

A few people were sitting at their desks when Alexa entered Section D and she was grateful to see that Lucas was nowhere to be seen. As people looked up, watching her walk past them towards Harry's office door, their curiosity was immediately replaced by whatever task they had at hand. Though it was unusual to see an outsider inside the Grid, everyone knew that Harry's business was entirely his own.

As the door to Harry's office opened, a tall woman with straight blonde hair emerged and Alexa stepped aside to let her through. She'd once met Ros Myers at the shooting range a few years earlier and admired the woman for her skill with a gun. She was an excellent shot and had even given her a few pointers. Cold, but excellent nonetheless.

"Mr. Pearce. Miss George here to see you, sir." her escort said and as Alexa walked into Harry's office, the man closed the door behind her.  
Harry's office had a view of his employees through the glass window that faced his desk. The vertical blinds were open and though it gave Alexa a view of his team working at their desks or talking amongst themselves at various points of the room, she knew that it also gave them a view of her. As Alexa stood before Harry, her composure slowly crumbled at the realization at how much power Harry held, and how much responsibility he had to bear. Suddenly, the fear of her breaking down in front of him gave Alexa pause.

But there was no mistaking the anger she felt at being left out of the loop regarding Liam's sudden change of residency arrangements at St. Barnabas. She wanted to get answers from Harry, who now eyed her with a look of exhaustion on his face.

He still wore the usual immaculate suits he wore but today, he looked tired. She often wondered whether the man slept at all.

"I know why you're here," Harry said, beckoning her to take a seat in front of him. "And you must believe that I have my reasons for doing it."

"Well, what are they, Harry? What reasons could there be for you not to even inform me of the decision to make such a change?"

She slowly sat down, her back to the glass wall behind her, her back stiff in attention. "You couldn't even afford me the courtesy of a phone call."

_You made me look like a fool_, she wanted to add, but stopped herself.

Harry's jaw tightened. He glanced at something behind her, some random employee probably walking past before turning his attention back to Alexa. "I'm sorry for not informing you, Alexa. It's been a difficult time here. We were in the middle of an operation and I'm afraid I forgot."

"You forgot," Alexa repeated. Slowly she got up from her chair and stepped forward towards Harry who had remained seated. She leaned forward, her fingers gripping the edge of the table. "You still think I'm a child, don't you, Harry? You still see me as that nineteen-year old girl who you picked up in Moscow. Well, that girl has grown up, and she's a mother now, too. A mother who loves her son more than anything else in this world, in case you've forgotten since you're too busy saving the world."

Harry's lips tightened into a straight line but he kept his response to the topic at hand. "Liam needs to grow up, Alexa. He needs to be with children his own age, with his peers, and with people who can support him."

"Support him? You don't think I can support him? Do you think I'm a terrible mother?"

Harry got up from his chair, aware that her voice had risen. As he looked up at the people on the other side of the glass, he could see the discreet lowering of their eyes, and then suddenly there was movement on the far end of the room, and their attention went towards it. He saw them talking and within seconds, Lucas walked towards his desk, sitting in front of the computer, his back facing Harry's office.

"This decision had nothing to do with your ability as a mother, or your love for Liam, and I have no question regarding your capacity as a mother," Harry began, returning his gaze to Alexa. "I'm sorry if you feel differently, Alexa."

"So is this when you tell me that this decision is just one of my father's directives? His way of controlling everything, like he always did, even from the grave?"

Harry shook his head. "No, Alexa. This time, the decision was mine. It's for Liam's best interests."

Alexa got up from the chair and walked towards the door just as Harry caught Ros' eye through the glass and beckoned her to come over. He got up and walked towards Alexa, his hand resting on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Alexa. One day I hope you'll understand."

The door opened, and Harry turned towards Alexa. "Ros will escort you out," he said softly. "I'll pick you up next week at nine thirty," he added.

Alexa glared at him. "You don't have to, Uncle Harry," she said wryly. "I can drive myself to the cemetery for a change. After all, I'm all grown up now."

Harry did not say anything as Alexa walked away. He closed the door behind him and stood by the window, watching his people from behind the glass. They appeared to be busy, engrossed in the tasks they had at hand and as his gaze alighted upon Lucas' desk, a wave of relief washed over him.

It was empty.

Ten minutes later, Ros entered his office and closed the door behind her. Recently promoted to chief operative of Section D, Ros Myers was the image of perfect calm. It was difficult to read anything on Ros' face and that was exactly how she preferred things. Dressed in a white blouse and a black pencil skirt, her shoulder-length bob always immaculately styled, she leaned against Harry's desk.

"She's quite upset."

"I expected her to be," Harry replied. He hadn't left his position by the window and as Lucas emerged from one of the hallways leading to the conference rooms accompanied by Ben, he turned to face Ros.

"Did you tell her?" Ros asked.

Harry walked back to his desk and sat down. "It's too soon to alarm her. As long as the usual precautions are taken and her child is safe behind the doors of St. Barnabas, I believe I've done all I can right now."

"Malcolm is certain that the information he intercepted is one hundred percent reliable."

"And I don't doubt it at all," Harry said, sighing as he flipped open a folder in front of him. "But at this moment, the risk Russia poses to our country is of much greater importance, don't you agree, Ros?"

For a few seconds, the tall woman was silent, then slowly, Ros nodded. "You're right."

The door closed behind Ros and for a few minutes, Harry enjoyed the silence though his face was frozen in an expression of deep concentration. He reached for a folder beneath a pile of papers on his desk and pulled it out, flipping it open to read the words on the page. He knew that reading the words again and again would not change anything.

As of Thursday last week, when Harry first learned of the new development from Malcolm Wynn-Jones, his chief data analyst, he knew things for Alexa and Liam would never be the same again.

He swiveled the chair round so he faced the wall, and leaning back against the back rest, Harry allowed himself to relax, his shoulders drooping as he exhaled. He loosened his tie and closed his eyes.

Since registering Liam for St. Barnabas a year ago, Harry had vowed to leave Alexa alone and let her live her life as independently as she could. Maybe she could find something that would give her purpose - not that being a mother was unimportant to Harry - but he feared that Alexa may have forgotten herself as a person, always referring to herself as Liam's mother, and almost nothing else.

It took a few weeks, but Harry was right. With her time free from having to pick up Liam from school each day and everything else that involved caring for a child, Alexa found her purpose in Found Hope, an organization she set up that provided counseling and resources to former victims of sex trafficking throughout England and to some extent, the world.

Though Harry admired Alexa for coming up with the idea, even directing her to people and organizations he considered would be in great positions to help her, he did so with much trepidation. He feared that the memories of her imprisonment in Russia, somehow tempered through the years by the daily task of raising a child, would re-emerge to haunt her and leave her broken once more.

But as the months went by, Harry had only witnessed the strengthening of Alexa's character as she took on the task of providing other women ready access to resources that, because of her father's influence, had been readily available to her, but not to everyone else. Though her involvement meant that the one thing she had tried to keep secret from her friends would only be brought out in public, Alexa had decided, against Harry's advice, to face the world and take a stand alongside the other women who survived such ordeal.

Harry knew Alexa had lost friends as soon as her organization went public. He'd seen her daily schedule dwindle from the weekly lunches and dinners with friends and their families, to almost nothing. It was as if they were punishing her for being a victim all over again, for being kidnapped and forced to work as a prostitute in Moscow.

He had nothing but admiration for his god daughter and Harry wished that one day, Alexa would understand his decision regarding Liam's status at St. Barnabas, and why he'd neglected to inform her.

The knock on the door brought Harry back to the present. He turned to see the door open and Lucas and Ros walked in just as Harry flipped the folder close in front of him. No, he decided, Alexa did not need to be informed about the new development right now. And neither did Lucas.

The last thing Harry needed right now was to have Lucas distracted from his duties which included determining the motives of Arkady Kachimov, the FSB resident in London, regarding Russia's nuclear intentions in England. And though a part of him wanted to believe that Lucas was not a double agent, Harry had to face the harsh reality that such things were still a possibility.

But for now, Harry knew one thing was certain. He knew that the information Ros had referred to, the one contained in the folder he'd just pushed aside on his desk, was one hundred percent true.

Mikhael Lubienko had been spotted in London.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Kudos and BBC. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.**  
**_

Found Hope's offices were located about ten minutes from Thames House, in a small nondescript office building located just behind the main thoroughfare. As Alexa entered the office, two women looked up and waved at her. She made her way through the row of shelves that contained brochures and pamphlets detailing resources available to victims of human trafficking, as well as a box of donated clothing that overflowed with thick coats and hand knitted scarves.

She slipped into her office and closed the door behind her. Except for the requisite office furniture that included a table, some chairs and a shelf of books, her office was bare. Since establishing the foundation a year before and obtaining funding through her father's contacts as well as the good samaritans she attracted through her interviews and talks, Alexa had shifted to a less visible role, preferring to be a non-voting board member thus distancing herself from the machinations of running and maintaining a foundation.

She was proud of Found Hope. Though it was small and so unlike the large foundations that dominated the charity circles, Found Hope was more rooted to something much simpler. Much of the foundation's funds went to the workers, usually former victims themselves, who visited the shelters and institutions, performing outreach and awareness. They provided referrals to traditional and alternative healing professionals who donated their services for free one day a month at a local gymnasium owned by a local private school, as well as psychological counseling.

It had grown into something Alexa herself could no longer keep up with, and she was grateful to be able to simply work behind the scenes, talking to individuals about the foundation and quietly raising money for her cause.

She usually spent a few hours at the office making and returning phone calls that involved fundraising, awareness and the usual small talk that organization and institutional leaders often made when it came to making sure that their organizations or businesses got ample return on their investments when they partnered with Found Hope. Like them, Alexa had perfected the art of negotiation.

Alexa was returning the last of the phone calls listed on her message book when someone tapped on the door and Nadia poked her head in.

"It's almost six, Miss George," she said in her heavily accented English. "We're leaving. Do you want us to lock the door for you?"

Alexa nodded. "Yes, Nadia. Please do."

Nadia had begun working at Found Hope two months earlier. She came from the small town of Kashin, located five hours from Moscow. She'd been offered a job in England as a singer but found out too late that there had been no such job available for her other than that of a prostitute who serviced clients in a five-bedroom house in a South London neighborhood she had never been able to explore on her own.

The traffickers had confiscated her passport, forcing her to work for eight months as a prostitute, before the the police raided the club four months earlier. Since then, she'd gone through rehab for drug dependency as a result of her imprisonment and two months ago, after meeting her at a women's shelter, Alexa had hired her and helped her get her immigration issues settled by sponsoring her as an employee.

As much as Alexa detested her father's influence, she was not above using it for her own ends. It had taken a quick luncheon with one of her father's old friends, and within two weeks, Nadia Ravin's paperwork was underway. In less than six weeks, she was a legal resident.

Alexa looked at her message book and sighed. One more call, she thought, and then she was done. Besides, she had no desire to come home to an empty house just yet. As she punched in the numbers on the phone, Alexa wondered what Liam would be doing now. Probably finishing up the last of his homework before dinner would be served at the dining hall, she thought.

She remembered how Liam had been so scared when he learned that he had to live at St. Barnabas and not be able to come home to her every day. At first, whenever he was around Harry, Liam seemed excited, running ahead of them as the three of them toured the school. But by the time the realization had hit him the Sunday before school started, Liam cried, begging Alexa that he would be good from now on and do as he was told. He would clean his room and do his chores.

Alexa had told him that he was just like the little boy who had to go Hogwarts, where he would learn all there was to learn about magic. Only at St. Barnabas, he'd learn much more than magic. He would learn about the world, the countries that lay outside England, and so much more. And he would get to play with other boys his age, and together they'd tell each other stories and play their video games and when the weather was good, he'd learn how to play rugby, his favorite sport.

Alexa closed the spreadsheet window on her computer screen and pulled up her personal folder. She clicked it and the screen lit up to reveal Liam's smiling face, two teeth missing as he smiled broadly, holding up a few bills that the tooth fairy had left under his pillow. The picture faded to be replaced by another one of Liam, and this time Alexa was in the picture with him and together they were sitting by the Christmas tree, opening presents.

Alexa found herself smiling, the photos fading in and out of the screen as she begun the screensaver program. Suddenly, she was no longer in any mood to talk to anyone. Alexa hung up the phone and leaned back against the backrest. She swiveled the chair to face the window which had a fantastic view of the alley with all its trash barrels all lined up against the wall. So much for cheap rent, she thought to herself as she got up and closed the blinds.

Outside, night had fallen over London and still, Alexa did not want to go home to her empty house without Liam.

After returning to London nine years earlier, Alexa had been subjected to a battery of tests including a forensic medical exam to determine any sexual assault, something Alexa thought was so ironic considering where she'd been for the last six months. But it was protocol and so she endured the physical and psychological testing required of her and three weeks later, when she found herself throwing up her breakfast, she knew the one thing that all the tests had somehow missed.

She was pregnant.

"Do you know who the father is?" Nathaniel had demanded. But before she could answer, he added, "of course, you don't know it is. You were just some damn whore, a Russian plaything."

He'd tried everything in his power to convince her to get rid of the baby short of dragging her to the doctor, but nothing had worked. His insults had hurt her, but Alexa stood her ground, needing to clear her head and make a decision. Alexa would have an abortion, she told him, but not till she had thought it all out first and made some calculations of her own.

For three days, Alexa holed herself up in her room and wrote in a diary. She wrote everything she could remember of the seven months since disappearing in Paris, her memory still acute despite the drugs she had been forced to take. She wrote about Mikhael, the customers she had to service, the talks she'd overheard. She wrote about the things she had been forced to do, no matter how vile.

She wrote about her attempt to escape along with three other girls and how they had been so close to success only to be brought back by the police who turned out to be in Mikhael's pockets. Alexa wrote of the days of torture she had endured and what happened to the three girls - Nena, Alana, and Mora. Alexa had to commit their names on paper so she would never forget them. No matter how painful, Alexa wrote it all out till she ran out of paper. And tears. Always the tears.

She remembered everything, the memories spilling on paper, even after her fingers cramped from all the furious scribbling. And as she wrote on her diary, Alexa added and subtracted, multiplied and estimated in relation to the calendar she had tucked within its pages. She wanted to account for all the days as much as she could remember them.

And when she finally finished writing it all down, she made her decision.

"I'm keeping this baby," She told Nathaniel as he sat in his study. "There's nothing you can do or say that will make me change my mind."

But by then, it had not mattered to Nathaniel anymore. Her father had given up fighting Alexa. He had resigned to the fact that his daughter was damaged goods, something he had overheard his colleagues saying while having lunch with Harry that day. And there was nothing he or anyone could do about it for they were all right.

Alexa was damaged goods.

The sound of the door opening in the outer office jarred Alexa to her senses and she sprung up from the chair, almost tripping over the chair legs. She stood with her back to the wall, listening as the front door closed, the lock clicking.

She glanced up at the clock on the wall, horrified to see that it was past nine in the evening. She could have sworn that she had heard the girls lock the door behind them. She remembered hearing the faint sound of the key turning in the lock just after they had shut the door.

Yet somehow she knew that she could be wrong. She had been too distracted to pay attention to any of them today. With her back hugging the wall, Alexa made her way towards the door to her office, her hands searching for something to protect herself with. The only light in the room came from the laptop, the screensaver still running though it faced away from the door.

She heaved a sigh of relief when her hand touched something hard. Alexa's fingers curled around the handle of a cricket bat, remembering when Nadia had brought it in just two weeks earlier, declaring that it was necessary to ward off the "crazy people" who had come in unannounced that day. Alexa wished she could have told Nadia that those "crazy people" were simply reporters who had wanted to interview Alexa for something she had said at conference just to see the look on the girl's face, but she didn't.

At this moment, Alexa was just grateful for the bat being right where she needed it.

Alexa's heart pounded inside her chest. She heard the footsteps approaching her office and she held her breath, the bat poised above her head as she stood behind the door. The footsteps stopped and Alexa listened as the intruder began to turn the doorknob, opening the door slowly. The silence in those moments threatened to overcome Alexa, a deafening roar building up in her ears.

Alexa did not wait for the door to completely open. She swung the bat towards the dark shape that moved towards her and hit something hard. Yes! her mind cheered, and she raised the bat again.

The intruder shouted in pain as the bat struck him on the arm but before Alexa could hit him again, he lunged towards her, tackling Alexa to the floor. Suddenly, Alexa panicked. She wanted to scream but nothing emerged from her lips. Alexa kicked and punched, not caring what she was hitting as long as she was hitting something.

The fear grew till it took over her entire being, and Alexa barely heard anything else but the roaring sound in her ears, the feeling of coldness seeping into her bones. She was afraid she would pass out, all the while her arms and legs continued their assault on the man who towered over her.

The intruder yelled at her, calling out her name but Alexa didn't hear him. She continued hitting him with her fists, elbows, knees and legs - anything - till he pinned her onto the floor with his body, his hands gripping her wrists and slamming them down to the floor till tears sprung in her eyes.

"Alexa, stop!"

Alexa stared at him, her eyes slowly getting accustomed to the semi-darkness. She saw his eyes, gray-blue eyes that glared back at her, his breath coming out in gasps.

"It's me," Lucas said. "Alexa, it's me."

Suddenly the adrenaline that hit her those last few minutes dissipated and Alexa's body became limp beneath him. She didn't realize how scared she had been, how she had panicked, and how, in her fear Alexa had seen only one face coming at her again and again.

In the darkness, Alexa could have sworn that Mikhael Lubienko had come back for her. She burst into tears.

"Oh my god," she whispered again and again, her mind finally registering Lucas' face above her. "Oh my god, Lucas. I thought you were-"

"Hush," Lucas said softly, releasing her wrists and bringing his arms around her as her body racked with sobs beneath him. He held her in his arms, bringing her face to his chest, feeling the tears wet against his neck.

"It's just me."


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Kudos and BBC. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended._

_**THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MATURE ADULT CONTENT**  
_

Lucas' arm hurt where the bat hit him. She was a damn good hitter, that he had to admit to himself as he followed her out of the taxi and up the steps to her flat. It had taken her a few minutes to calm her nerves down after their unfortunate misunderstanding inside her office. He had found her front door ajar and, seeing the faint light beneath the door leading to her office, he had assumed that she was inside.

And though he had been right - she was inside the office - the last thing he expected was for her to be with a bat ready to bash his head in.

He'd had a tenuous day dealing with Harry and Ros as they doubted his loyalty to MI5. And though being tasered wasn't his idea of fun either, double-crossing Arkady Kachimov into believing that he'd been exposed as the mole within FSB certainly was. It had given Lucas an adrenaline rush like nothing he had felt in a long time. He considered it his revenge for the eight years of hell Kachimov had subjected him to.

However, none of that had compared to telling, not asking, his ex-wife to work for MI5 to save herself and her family. Lucas' jaw tightened as the image of Elizabeta staring at him from across the kitchen counter returned to him, not hearing what Alexa said.

"What?"

"Lucas," Alexa said again, her words slicing through the haze of memories. "Would you like to come in?"

Alexa opened a bottle of white wine to go with the fish and chips that Lucas had brought along with him and they sat on the floor of the living room to eat. Alexa wondered if Lucas had known that she'd been at the Grid to see Harry but didn't think it too important to ask him.

He was here with her now, wasn't he?

Lucas was wearing a black shirt over dark blue jeans, colors that highlighted the classic features of his face. He sat with his back against the sofa, his legs stretched out in front of him on the rug, munching on some chips as he watched her, a smile on his lips. Alexa sat with her legs folded to one side, propping herself up on the sofa next to him.

"You gave me quite a scare," she said, taking a sip from the wine. "What made you come over?"

Lucas gazed at her, his eyes resting on her full lips before returning to her eyes. Alexa had beautiful green almond-shaped eyes framed with long lashes. Her skin was flawless and her hair hung in loose waves across her shoulders, spilling onto her back. He could see the faint pulse on her neck.

"I missed you," he said.

Alexa laughed, blushing. "You liar," she said. "I bet you've got loads of women running after you."

Lucas laughed. "If they are, then I've lost them somewhere along the way."

They chuckled for a few moments and continued eating. Lucas licked his fingers, wiping them with a napkin before taking another sip of the wine.

Alexa exhaled. It had taken a few moments for her to calm down back there at her office long after Lucas helped her up off the floor, holding her till she stopped trembling. And even as they had gotten into the taxi, she had still found herself shaking though this time, she shoved her hands in her coat pockets, not wanting Lucas to see them.

"I was so scared back there, Lucas. I could have sworn I saw his face -"

Lucas touched her hand gently. "I should have announced myself. It was wrong for me to sneak up on you like that."

"I still have nightmares, you know," she continued. "Sometimes I pretend that I'm this strong woman who can take over the world, who can guide other women along the path to independence with the foundation, yet here I am, just scared little girl -"

"You are," Lucas interrupted. "You are a very strong woman, Alexa."

"Do you get nightmares, Lucas?" Alexa asked, searching his face as Lucas looked away. After a few moments, he turned to face her, nodding.

"Every night," he replied. He ran his hand across his hair before rubbing his face absently. "Eight years don't disappear overnight."

Lucas drew closer to her, bringing his arm across her shoulders as Alexa straightened her legs in front of her and leaned against him. "Do you ever wish you could punish someone? Anyone? Make them pay for what they'd done to you?"

"Every day," Lucas replied. He thought of Arkady Kachimov and the limitless extent of the man's treachery, teasing him all those years while he was in prison about letting him go if only he'd spy for them, only to find out that he'd turned Elizabeta anyway, using Lucas as leverage.

He looked at Alexa, her face troubled, as if she were back in that dark place again after so long. The office incident had somehow set her off, opened an artery that now seemed to be bleeding again. She looked so haunted.

"Lucas, I..."

Lucas tilted her head up towards him, his lips gentle upon hers, silencing her as he kissed her. The feel of her lips was intoxicating and as she responded, he drew her closer to him. He kissed her softly, teasing her with gentle kisses, nibbling on her lower lip as Alexa groaned, her belly tightening.

His tongue teased her lips and she drew closer, yearning for more. For a few minutes they kissed, and when Lucas captured her tongue, sucking it gently, Alexa found herself breathless. His fingers played along the skin of the back of her neck, giving her goosebumps, and Alexa found herself impatient to get him out of his clothes.

Suddenly she pulled away and Lucas looked at her, frowning.

Alexa was out of breath, her lips tingling where he'd sucked them playfully. Without saying a word, she led him upstairs, down the hallway, and into her bedroom, with its crisp white sheets and down-filled pillows. Sitting him down on the edge of the bed, she undressed in front of him, a slow precise series of movements that in the absence of the sexual tension that rose between them, would have been just someone undressing before a mirror.

Instead, Lucas found himself watching her every move. From the slow unbuttoning of her blouse, the deliberate lift of her shoulder to let the fabric fall away from her torso, to the unzipping of her skirt, he watched her, mesmerized. His breathing quickened and in the silence between them, it filled the air.

Then she stood before him with only her bra and panties, turning so that her back faced him, her hair covering the vision of Kali on her back. Lucas suppressed the groan from his throat as he slowly unhooked her lace bra, watching her move her shoulder up and then down to let the straps fall off her shoulders. The lacy undergarment whispered all the way to the floor to her feet, as if in slow motion.

Lucas hooked his fingers along the top of her panties and with a sigh that brought his warm breath upon the small of her back, he slid them down, off her hips, his fingers burning a pathway down her thighs as he let the last of her underthings fall silently onto the carpet.

He reached his hands in front of her and cupped her breasts, feeling their weight and softness in his palms. He squeezed them, almost roughly, his thumb and index finger finding her nipples and pinching them. Alexa gasped, her body leaning back against him before she brought her own hands on his and pulled them away from her breasts and down onto her sides.

She turned to face him and Lucas reached out for her.

"You are beautiful," he whispered hoarsely.

Her lip curled seductively, playfully. Alexa pushed him down onto the bed and straddled him, her knees on either side of his torso. She began to unbutton his shirt slowly, her eyes locking with his as she bent down to kiss him again, her lips playful just as he had been when they were downstairs. She sucked on his lower lip, feeling his hands tighten around her, hearing him moan.

"Oh, god, Alex," he breathed. Lucas gripped her hips as she continued undressing him, straining to hold himself in check. The hunger in his belly was roaring, demanding to be sated but he held back, allowing himself to be controlled by the woman who towered over him, her hair spilling over his chest as she drew lower, her lips a few inches away from his.

He could feel her sex hot and moist against his lower belly, the smoothness of her nether lips driving him mad with hunger. Lucas brought his head up to meet hers, his lips hungry to devour her but Alexa moved away from him, sliding down onto the floor so she sat between his knees. She unbuckled his belt, helping him slip off his jeans. His arousal strained from within the last remnant of clothing, and she freed him from his constraints, hearing him moan as she held him.

Alexa bit her lower lip as she brought her fingers around him, stroking him gently, squeezing him, teasing him. She heard him groan, his hips rising and falling upon the bed as she delayed his release by holding back.

Finally Lucas had had enough. He was about to burst, the limits of his patience finally breached and he pulled her from the floor and deposited her onto the middle of the bed. The fire in his eyes was unmistakeable, the heat from his belly needing to be quenched. And soon.

Yet there was something else, and she saw it behind his blue-gray eyes. A violence loomed there, lingering in the shadows, yearning to be set free. The vein on the side of his temple throbbed as Lucas brought his lips upon hers roughly, the stubble on his jaw scratching the skin of her face and neck.

Alexa brought her hands to his face, feeling the day's growth of stubble beneath her fingers, her hands curling against the curve of his neck to bring him closer to her. She felt his cock, hot and throbbing against the skin of her thigh and she moaned, her hand moving downwards to caress him. Lucas groaned, closing his eyes as her fingers encircled him, feeling him, her hands traveling along the length of him, hot against the sensitive folds of her sex.

She wanted him, her heavily lidded eyes watched Lucas as he opened his eyes, sucking his breath in as the sensations rushed through his body. With her other hand, she brought his face down towards her, the rough stubble along his jaw scratching her face but Alexa did not care. She could feel his breath, heavy against her mouth as he kissed her almost roughly, his tongue slipping between her lips and exploring, taking her tongue captive between his teeth as she groaned.

Suddenly Lucas grabbed hold of her wrists, pinning them against the bed above her head with one hand and with the other, he squeezed her breast hard, making her gasp from the pain. As her legs opened to take him, he slammed himself inside of her, feeling her body buck beneath him. Their lips met, this time the tenderness, the playfulness they'd shown earlier was gone, his mouth claiming her tongue again as he pounded her, feeling her body arch back to meet him at every thrust of his hips.

Her body writhed beneath him, slamming against him as if she were fighting him, but Lucas held her down with his body, his mouth laying its assault on her neck and her breasts, leaving a trail that burned her skin. It was a savage coupling that sent them both reeling.

She let Lucas pin her down, restraining her as he took her roughly. Time seemed to stand still as he moved in and out of her, his eyes watching her as she felt herself crest that wave, her orgasm threatening to consume her completely.

Her body shuddered as she came, wave upon wave that made her cry out his name against his neck as he continued to restrain her arms above her head. Lucas would not give her the satisfaction of holding him. Not now. The anger that had long been lurking deep inside him had taken over his very being and it surprised him. He could not stop.

Lucas turned her over, lifting her hips up so he could take her from behind. Ready or not, he entered her, pleased to see that she was, feeling her hips meet his as she cried out his name with every thrust of his hips. He grabbed her hair, causing Alexa to arch her back as he pounded her, the sensation of the walls that enclosed him like a glove finally becoming too much to bear and Lucas came, crying out as he continued to pound against her, feeling her body shudder as she came again.

When it was over, they collapsed, drenched in perspiration that cloaked them from head to foot. Lucas kissed her again but drew back, the sensations coursing through his body overcoming him, giving his skin goosebumps where her hands now touched him. The raw electricity that danced in the space between them made him gasp for breath and they lay side by side, panting, feeling the air in the room vibrate around them till slowly it, too, died down.

He turned his body to face Alexa, her back facing him and together they lay there, his breath warming the back of her neck, one arm under her head, the other on her hip. There was no room for words as they held each other. Lucas traced the contours of leg against his, feeling the smoothness of her skin as he closed his eyes.

They fell asleep and for how long, Lucas did not know. He only knew that as he opened his eyes a few hours later, when it was still dark, Alexa had awoken as well and felt his body stir behind her. For a few minutes they lay there, listening to each others breathing in the darkness, feeling the subtle changes in their bodies as desire stirred within. Lucas kissed the slope of her shoulder, his hands soft against the curve of her belly, tracing the skin between her hip bones and moving downwards till his fingers felt the heat of her sex, building yet again, her wetness warm and ready.

Silently they moved together, her hips grinding against him, welcoming the length and girth of him inside of her, filling her. This time, their movements were slow and gentle. Alexa's head rested on the crook of his shoulder and as he moved himself rhythmically in and out of her, she nibbled the sensitive skin of his arm and Lucas gasped as the sensations shot through him. He slipped his other hand into the folds of her sex, his fingers stroking the nub that sent her body into uncontrollable shivers as she writhed and moaned and whimpered.

Lucas came as hard as he did the first time that night, his hands squeezing her breast roughly, pulling her nipple hard. She cried out in pain, her hand reaching behind her to grab his hip, her nails digging into his skin and together they came, their bodies wracked with shudders as the last of the waves conquered them, leaving them breathless and spent.

The beeping of his phone somewhere in the room woke Lucas up and he slowly extricated his numb arm from beneath Alexa's head as she slept. They hadn't moved their position through the night and Lucas shook his arm awake, his body sore in places he'd forgotten about.  
He found his phone in his jeans pocket. It was Harry. Lucas grabbed his clothes and stepped out of the bedroom before answering it, closing the door behind him.

His voice was hoarse but he did not need to say much. Harry wanted them all at the office as soon as possible. It was just another day at the office, Lucas thought, as he found one of the two doors at the end of the hallway that led to the bathroom where he did his best to freshen up and rid himself of the smell of sex that he knew would be clinging to his skin. To hell with that, he thought. Let them think whatever they want to think. What he did outside of the Grid was his business and no one else's, not even Harry's.

He would have wanted to spend the morning with Alexa but knew it would have been too much right now. He did not know where they stood in this strange relationship, a relationship that bore all the hallmarks of a tragedy just waiting to happen.

The attraction they felt for each other was unmistakable, unavoidable. He felt the electricity in the air each time they were together. Yet Lucas knew that they were together for all the wrong reasons.

As he shut the door behind him, pulling at it to make sure it was locked, Lucas wished he could have at least be there when Alexa awoke. She didn't deserve the treatment she was getting from him.

As Lucas bounded down the steps, looking around him warily like he always did mainly due to habit, he didn't noticed the man jogging across the street from him stop to tie his shoelaces. And as the man looked up, he stared at Lucas, a look of recognition flashing across his scarred face.

Lucas' gaze fell on him, but the man immediately bent his head down, concentrating on the shoelace that had gotten loose. Lucas frowned. His phone rang again and this time he answered the call immediately and began walking up the street towards the main thoroughfare where he could catch a taxi that would take him to Thames House.

As the jogger straightened up, he stared at the figure disappearing around the corner, the vein on his neck throbbing.

Mikhael Lubienko never forgot a face, and this one, he remembered very well.


	7. Chapter 7

Alexa heard Lucas get up, awakened by the ringing of his phone. She felt him slip off the bed, leaving a cool space behind her where he had been as he quietly slipped outside the room to answer the call. A few seconds later, he slipped back into the room to bring the covers behind her and give her a light kiss on the cheek.

"I've got to go," he whispered but Alexa kept her eyes closed, not wanting to deal with the awkwardness of good-byes. It wasn't as if she was going to make him coffee and make him breakfast, but ever since seeing him, Alexa felt uncomfortable knowing that their beginnings were far from the norm.

_Where would such a relationship go?_ she wondered. _How could it even work? Definitely not something that had the promise of a long-term relationship, or any kind of relationship for that matter,_ she thought as she listened to him close the door behind him again.

Alexa moved carefully from her position on the bed, uncovering sore spots as she did so. The smell of sex still lingered in the air and as she slid off the bed, wrapping the sheet around her, she padded over to her dresser and stared at her reflection on the dresser mirror. Lucas had left bruises on her wrists where he had held her down and on her neck and chest were marks from the bites he had inflicted upon her. She had driven him mad with hunger and longing and she had enjoyed every second of it.

Her skin prickled at the thought of last night and Alexa wrapped the sheet tighter around her, sitting down as her knees threatened to give way at the memories that began flooding back. She had never expected her body to react the way it did around Lucas. It was as if her body seemed to recognize the essence of him, breaking down all the walls she had fought so hard to put up since returning from Moscow nine years ago.

For over five years, she had devoted herself to Liam and nothing else simply because she could not handle anything more than that, especially after Nathaniel died. No matter how strict he had been, he had only her and Liam's well-being in mind, and watching him slowly fade away from the cancer that ravaged him took something out of Alexa. When he died, she and Liam were truly alone. Her mother, an Argentinian national, a daughter of an ambassador herself, did not have any family in England.

But of course, there was Harry, her father's devoted friend who was never too far away, even sending his own people to check up on her whenever he couldn't. Harry could have been out saving the world, but he still managed to keep up with being her godfather, in any way he managed.

When Alexa finally decided to tackle dating, it was nothing short of disastrous, her nerves always getting the best of her. It did not matter how they looked or sounded. Each man she found herself alone with always had something that reminded her of Mikhael and the thought of even the touch of their hands upon her skin was enough to make her gag.

She saw features in him in every man who expressed desire for her, no matter how they looked. A glint in the eye, the way that he smiled, the way he spoke, or the way he smelled. It did not matter what it was, there had always been something. It all triggered the loathing and the fear within her and Alexa knew she wasn't ready. Not yet.

She wasn't embarrassed to admit that she'd sought the comfort of women for a time, seeing none of the fear that being with men had caused in her. There were no cold sweats, clammy hands, or nausea to accompany their caresses, nor their kisses, and more. She felt safe with them, often the memories of the three Chechen girls invading her thoughts, remembering their innocence.

She wondered if it was a merely a way for her body to cope with the loneliness without pushing itself to the brink of madness, a madness that emerged whenever she found herself alone with a man longing for intimacy with her. She wondered if Harry had disapproved of the brief lifestyle change, but even if he had, Harry had not said anything to her about it.

The thought of Harry brought her back to the present and Alexa walked towards the door, listening for Lucas' footfalls upon the landing. She hoped he wouldn't come back inside her room, heaving a sigh of relief when she heard him go down the stairs as quietly as he could. She smiled to herself as she she imagined him gingerly taking the steps down to the first floor. He'd acquired a bit more color since she had last seen him a few days earlier, and probably had had a few helpings of fish and chips since then, too.

With Lucas, it had been different. She couldn't explain it, but her body expressed neither the loathing nor the fear that it always had in the past with other men. Alexa blushed, her thoughts returning to the sight of Lucas on her bed, begging for her to make love to him. He would never know that Alexa had never been with any man since she returned to London nine years earlier.

Alexa wondered if Harry knew about Lucas and her, knowing that he would have completely and utterly disapproved of it. Maybe it was for the best then, she thought, that she and Lucas not see each other anymore. It would be something he would probably agree to as well. Her relationship to Harry complicated things between them. That, and the biggest thing of all, the way they had first met, the situation that they had found themselves in, igniting an unplanned bond that seemed too difficult for Alexa to break.

But she knew it was more than that.

As she heard the door close behind him, the lock clicking, Alexa opened the bedroom door and stepped outside. She went downstairs and walked towards her front door, tempted to stick her head outside, and take one last look at Lucas as he walked away. Silly me, she said to herself, acting like a damn schoolgirl. Instead, Alexa put the chain lock in place and went to the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee.

She walked past the living room where they had had dinner the night before, picking up the wine glasses and the plates that bore the remnants of their simple take-out dinner, the fish beginning to stink up the place. Suddenly Alexa felt a tug deep inside her chest, and she caught her breath. She leaned against the kitchen counter, fighting to control the shallow breaths that had taken over her body, her heart beating rapidly inside her chest. When it passed, she suppressed a girlish giggle, and she put her hands to her face, realizing that she was blushing.

There was no denying it. Alexa had fallen for Lucas North.

Outside Trevor Square, Mikhael Lubienko, who had flown in using a passport as Viktor Sarkissian, crushed the spent cigarette beneath his shoe. According to his current status in the UK, he was a contractor, hired to do computer work for some hack Russian company. He stared up at Alexa's flat, his face in a permanent grimace of pain where his skin melted from caustic acid he had poured onto his face years earlier.

Something inside him stirred at the memory of seeing Lucas North emerging from Alexa's flat so early in the morning, just when he was making his practice run around her block for the second time. Since his arrival a week earlier, he'd often jogged around the area, checking to see who was still in the neighborhood watching her, which cars were parked as part of the MI5 surveillance team, although he could sworn he'd seen a few Russian faces as well.

Since Lucas' release from prison, it appeared that Alexa George's business was now everyone's business.

Yet Mikhael wondered if the surveillance team had caught sight of him. And if they did, he would have long been arrested by now, hauled into some underground interrogation room. Arkady had assured him that no one knew he was in town. Mikhael only answered to Arkady, and maybe to the one man that Arkady answered to outside of the FSB, a man Mikhael did not know. If anything happened to Mikhael, if he were to be arrested, there was no one in London who would vouch for him, not even Arkady. Most of all, Arkady.

He was a nobody, really. And for now, as Mikhael picked the lock to Alexa's front door, hearing the click as he pushed it open, he was fine with that.

Alexa heard a click at the front door. She wondered if Lucas had returned, probably forgetting something. Yet as her heart began to race, she knew it was not him even as the doorknob turned slowly. She turned cold, her hand suddenly shaking. Someone was picking the lock on her door.

To her horror, Alexa realized that she hadn't bolted the door completely, having only slipped on the chain lock instead of the heavy duty bolts that really mattered. Alexa rushed towards the door to do so just as the door pushed open, only to be jerked backwards by the chain that held it.

Alexa saw the eye first, the slit between the door and the frame allowing only half of the man's face to be revealed to her. "Oh my god," she whispered as she watched the man smile. She recognized that smile anywhere.

"Hello, matryoshka," Mikhael said in Russian as he pushed against the door again, and Alexa watched in horror as the chain weakened, the screws loosening from the frame. Her body turned ice cold, her courage threatening to abandon her as Mikhael's face appeared in front of her, his fingers slipping through the space between them.

Alexa screamed, lunging herself against the door and slamming it shut against his fingers, and Mikhael bellowed in pain, pulling his fingers free as the door slammed shut.

Suddenly the door heaved forward, Mikhael's voice grunting behind it. He was ramming the door with his massive shoulders and the door shook at the assault. One more, Alexa thought, and the door would give way.

Alexa thought of the gun she kept upstairs, the one she had just thought of taking with her to the shooting range, and she turned and ran towards the stairs just as the door shattered and Mikhael Lubienko was upon her.


	8. Chapter 8

The Grid never seemed to sleep. Throughout the day and night, there were always people sitting in front of computer screens, transcribing conversations, or reviewing surveillance videos and files. As the hours ticked by, with the nights fading into day, the Grid would wake up, running on its a circadian rhythm that never stopped for anyone.

Jo Portman sat in front of her computer screen, her eyes bleary from too little sleep and too many tears. A junior case officer, she had recently returned to the Grid after taking six months off to recuperate from a hostage situation that had gone awfully wrong.

It was difficult to sleep, her mind constantly seeing one man's face slipping in and out of her consciousness. What he had done to her was imprinted deep under her skin and though she'd tried everything she could think of to shake him off, his face, his words, and his touch still lingered in her thoughts each and every day. He seemed to be her only companion, whether she wished it or not.

But today, as she sat at her desk in the Grid, coffee was her only companion. That, and the file of Arkardy Kachimov, the man responsible for Adam Carter's death. She'd been staring at his three-inch file for the past three hours now, hoping she could easily wish death on the man from where she sat.

Adam's death loomed over Section D, not only because he had barely been dead less than thirty-six hours, but because he had been the section's pulse. His presence inspired people, motivated them into doing what needed to be done, even to the point of pushing them beyond what they normally would never have thought they'd been able to do. That was the power Adam held over his people.

They trusted him.

But now he was dead.

And the man responsible for his death was somewhere in London, alive. Arkady Kachimov, FSB resident in London, was now the property of MI5, primarily because he was a huge catch for them, a well of information just waiting to be uncovered.

Jo clenched her fists, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill down her face again. She closed her eyes and began to take deep breaths, fighting to take a hold of herself. Adam would not have wanted to see her this way, she thought. If she couldn't do this job, then Adam would have died in vain.

She turned her attention to a group of photographs that she had recently printed out from a group of recent surveillance photographs. Kachimov walking alongside a burly man with long blonde hair that was secured in a ponytail, their hands in their pockets. Another photograph of Kachimov again, this time taken on a different day, speaking to the same man, and as she stared at Kachimov's companion, Jo suppressed a shiver.

He looked absolutely scary. His face was scarred, its features almost grotesque. She had scoured the database for matches that would lead her to his identity but had come up empty. But now, she also had something of interest in her hands. She'd come across a phone call made just last night, at a time she thought Kachimov would have been under escort by Harry and Ros.

Around her, people began filtering into the Grid, settling themselves in front of previously empty desks, sipping coffee or tea from ubiquitous coffee cups that seemed to populate the office every hour of the day and night.

Harry walked in, and with a brief nod towards Jo, slipped quietly into his office. He looked preoccupied, dark circles under his eyes. Jo wondered if he, too, thought it a huge mistake to keep Kachimov alive.

Within a few minutes, Ros, the newly appointed chief of Section D, walked in, her eyes widening as she spotted Jo. The guard at the front desk had informed her that Jo was already at her desk, having arrived before three that morning. Still, Ros asked the question.

"How long have you been here?"

"A few hours," Jo replied. "I forgot to return Kachimov's file last night," she lied. She had come in to dig up as much information as she could find on the man in an effort to convince Harry that the man did not deserve to live. Not after the way he had fooled MI5, and most of all, causing Adam's death.

Ros' face hardened at the mention of the Russian's name, but she caught herself and glanced at the thick file that sat in front of Jo. "I don't think you have to worry about Kachimov anymore, Jo."

Jo studied Ros' face, narrowing at an unspoken implication in the tall woman's tone of voice. "Are you sure?" She asked, her voice shaking.  
Ros' face remained unreadable. "He's paid the price," she whispered as Jo's shoulders slumped down and she leaned back on the chair, breathing a sigh of relief. But as soon as Jo's eyes alighted on the photographs in front of her, she drew her body forward and punched a few keys on the screen.

"Kachimov made a phone call last night, while you and Harry were escorting him."

Ros frowned. "That's impossible. We were with him the entire time."

"Were you with him in the bathroom, too?" Jo asked as Kachimov's voice floated in the space between them, the image of sound waves dominating Jo's computer screen. The words were in Russian, the sound of the tap running in the background almost muffling his words.

Harry stepped out of his office and walked towards them, Kachimov's voice seeming like a voice from the grave, as if luring him. Ros glanced at him, their eyes acknowledging each other briefly, before turning their attention to the sound crackling over the computer speakers.  
Kachimov, they both knew, was dead.

Kachimov's words echoed within the walls of the bathroom where he must have been during the time of the call, a location that served only to amplify his words as he spoke. The three of them watched the screen as the translation appeared below the sound waves dancing in an enclosed box.

_Kachimov: The phoenix has come home._

_Caller: And the girl. What of the girl?_

_Kachimov: She's yours, if you want her."_

_Caller: Thank you. You know that's all I want._

_Kachimov: You are on your own now. I need to go away for awhile._

_Caller: I understand._

It was a brief call, designed so that its source would be difficult, if not impossible, to trace. Harry straightened up, frowning. "Did you try to match the voice against anyone in our database?"

Jo nodded. "Yes, since early this morning, but it does not match anyone we have. Malcolm is on it right now. Maybe he'll have more luck."  
Malcolm Wynn-Jones was Section D's chief analyst. He looked up from his computer screen, his fingers busy tapping away at his keyboard effortlessly. "I'm almost there."

Harry and Ros hurried over to Malcolm's desk, standing behind him as he continued to tap away at his keyboard, faces and voices moving past them on the screen as the voice repeated itself again and again, trying to find its match. _And the girl. What of the girl?_

"Jo wasn't able to have any luck with the people we already have in our database. But I'm running the voice against a new crop of individuals that haven't yet been incorporated into the main files," Malcolm was saying. "Newcomers, mostly within the last month."

"How long do you think it will take?" Harry asked.

Before Malcolm could answer, the computer beeped and he clicked the mouse, stopping the search. One face stared at them from the computer screen, the words repeating again. This time, the voice matched.

Malcolm read the printed words below the image on the screen, his face impassive, as if he were reading a passage from a Shakespeare play. "According to his passport, the man's name is Viktor Sarkissian. He arrived in London one week ago, and we have photos of him meeting with Kachimov three times since he arrived."

At Malcolm's last sentence, Jo handed Harry the pile of photographs she had just printed out.

The face that stared at them was scarred and cold. One half of his face, from the skin below his left eye to his jaw was filled with scar tissue that made it look as if his face had simply melted away. The left side of his lip was frozen in an ugly grimace and Harry wondered if the man was attempting a smile.

"Sarkissian is such a common name," Ros murmured as she looked at Harry. "It will take some time before we can even narrow it down to a reasonable number of people. Who is this 'phoenix' they're referring to?"

"Kachimov used to call me his phoenix," Lucas said and the four of them turned their heads to see him standing behind them, surprised. He was leaning against his desk holding an opened box of doughnuts in his hand.

They hadn't heard Lucas walk in. He placed the box of doughnuts on the desk behind him and walked towards them, glancing at the face on the screen from behind Ros and Harry, the color leaving his face. "It was something he began calling me towards the end of my...stay."

The last word was spoken bitterly, as Lucas cocked his head to the side, the way he always did when he had to say something that seemed to require a lot courage.

"That's Mikhael Lubienko," Lucas added, "not Viktor Sarkissian. Though I remember him looking more human than he looks now." This man had more than half of his face frozen in a scarred mask of horror, nothing like the man Lucas remembered nine years ago. It was as if Mikhael had walked through a wall of fire.

Suddenly the image of the man bending down on one knee to tie a shoelace came back to Lucas. Lucas cursed loudly and everyone turned to look at him.

Lucas could see Harry watching him, waiting for him to say something but he couldn't. How could he even begin to tell Harry that he was sleeping with Alexa? Without saying a word, Lucas turned to leave.

"Lucas, what is it?" Harry asked and Lucas paused, forcing himself to turn around to face Harry and the rest of the team who, just only yesterday, had thought him to be a double agent. He'd fought so hard to get back their trust. He could not afford to lose it again.

The thought of Alexa came back to him, asleep on the bed when he had left her. He could have protected her. Instead, he was here instead of being with Alexa right now.

"What is it, Lucas?" Harry asked again.

"Mikhael was in front of Alexa's flat this morning."

Harry was unable to think. He fought hard to keep himself present as he now sat next to Lucas, as they sped through the streets of London towards Alexa's flat. Ros and Jo had gone ahead of them, both women sensing that Harry and Lucas had some catching up to do.

Harry had first known about Mikhael through Lucas' reports nine years earlier. Lucas had detailed the man's life on paper when he'd first met him and Harry had kept track of the man up to six years ago, when it was certain that Mikhael would spend the rest of his life in jail.

If Harry had only kept himself abreast of Mikhael's life, he would have learned that Mikhael had received a pardon, a rare thing in Russia.

After six years in prison, he had returned to Moscow to build up the empire he had lost, hoping to regain that initial spark that had made him so powerful. This time, he wasn't about to make the same mistakes.

This much, Harry knew and documented about Mikhael's life since he was sentenced to life in prison for the kidnapping and assault of an ambassador's daughter, drug trafficking and human trafficking:

While Mikhael had started his life in jail with the respect accorded to him because of his status in the crime world, it was one drunken mistake that would cause him to fall down to the lowest status in the world of the Russian prison system.

In a game of cards, he'd drunkenly offered a daughter he had with one of his prostitutes as collateral, thinking he wasn't going to lose. He had had a great hand and knew he couldn't lose. But he was as drunk as he'd ever been, his thinking clouded by too much vodka. Mikhael lost the bet and the men allegedly collected what was owed to them, the eleven year old girl taken by force in the little village where she lived, Mikhael's hometown just six hours from Moscow. Interestingly, the girl's name, according to the report, was named Alexandra.

Mikhael had never expected it to happen, his fall from grace, but it did. And the daughter he never remembered by a woman he barely knew, other than through the money he used to send for her care, was gone, sold to slavery somewhere in Russia. But if Mikhael hadn't shown any remorse for what he had done, nor shown that even cared, the men he'd lost the bet to did.

His action had sickened them to the core, and they wanted to show him how far he had fallen from grace. They caught him and held him down by force, tattooing hateful words on his cheeks and a pair of eyes on the bones of his pelvis so that anyone who'd see him with his shirt off would see those eyes and know what he was. He had many tattoos on his body, but none as vile as these. They had marked him and he had become the lowest of men in the prison class system.

And all this, Harry had learned and believed to be the last that he'd ever hear of Mikhael Lubienko. It was vengeance served cold, all done without even lifting a hand of his own from across the pond.

It almost read like a novel, with such intricate details, that Harry almost wondered if such a report had been fabricated or not. But he really did not care. The man had gotten what he deserved.

And so Harry had closed Mikhael Lubienko's file six years earlier, assuring Alexa that the man who had continued to haunt her dreams was now as good as dead, imprisoned forever and living the life equivalent to the rats that populated the prison floors. It had given Alexa a chance to move on and Harry couldn't have been more pleased.

Had Harry kept up his reports on Mikhael, no matter how sparse they had been, he would have learned that an FSB officer named Arkday Kachimov, years before he'd be assigned in London, had visited the prison and offered Mikhael a chance for freedom, a pardon for his crimes.

In exchange, Mikhael would do the dirty work Arkady needed that did not require the skills of his own spies, but that of a criminal.

But Mikhael's allure to Arkady had nothing to do with his criminal life before prison. Arkady had found the thread that linked Mikhael to Lucas and snatched it for his own use, using the lure of vengeance to get the man to do his every bidding. And when the time came, Arkady promised Mikhael that Lucas North would be his as well to do as he wished. He would give Mikhael the man who had toppled his empire and turned him into the man he was now.

And Harry would never know, until it was too late, that Arkady had also uncovered something else of value that proved such a strong draw for Mikhael to do everything Arkady asked of him.

Arkady also promised to give him Alexa George.


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

Alexa had never run so fast in her life, her thoughts only to get to her gun upstairs. There was no where else for her to go. She climbed up the steps two at a time, praying that though Mikhael may be much bigger than her, he wouldn't be as fast as her.

Alexa had reached the sixth step when Mikhael's fingers caught her leg, grabbing her at the ankle and yanking her backwards, slamming her down onto one knee as she grabbed a bannister for support.

She kicked furiously at him, her bare feet hitting his face, or whatever was left of his face, and Mikhael shouted in anger as her foot hit the joint of his jaw, sending him shouting in pain and grabbing hold of his face.

Alexa was running for her life, adrenaline coursing through her body as she scrambled up the stairs, her knee throbbing with pain, making movement almost impossible. She made it to the top of the stairs, turning round the corner by the time Mikhael, cursing in Russian, thundered behind her.

Mikhael knew that he was running out of time. Someone would have called the police by now. But Mikhael wasn't about to leave without her. He'd waited too long.

Alexa had barely enough time to bolt the door to her room when Mikhael came crashing through, tearing the door off its hinges and knocking the wind out of her as she landed on her back on the floor. Then he was on top her and Alexa kicked and punched him, knowing that the moment she'd give in, she would have no chance at all. She had to get up on her feet again.

Suddenly Mikhael hit her with his palm and Alexa's head whipped backwards, stars filling her vision. He covered her mouth with his massive hand as she fought him, trying to stay conscious even as her vision began to dim. He was straddling her now, his breath coming in grunts as the pain in his face slowly abated.

Alexa could barely breathe as Mikhael's hand covered her nose and her mouth. Her vision narrowed, seeing only his face, that ugly cold face above her, the leer permanently frozen on his lips that was half-covered in scars. He sneered at her, the chuckle from his lips making Alexa's stomach churn with revulsion. Then Mikhael's other hand went to her breast, and he squeezed it hard, making her gasp in pain as he began to laugh.

"You think you can run away from me, matryoshka?"He said. "You see me now? You see what they did to me for you? And now here you are with your boyfriend spy?" He spat out the words, spittle landing on Alexa's face as she fought him.

What was she thinking, she thought to herself as her vision began to dim, believing she could save herself from this madman? He was too big for her. She was barely half his size. What chance did she have? A part of Alexa's brain was lulling her to sleep, telling her to give in to the darkness, to let the shadows of her fear take over.

Suddenly something in Alexa's mind awoke, and in the oncoming darkness that threatened to overcome her as her brain slowly starved for oxygen, she saw her sweet Liam's face. She was supposed to see him today as he played his rugby game at school. Liam, who didn't deserve having her as a mother, someone who could be as flawed and scared - and dying.

Suddenly Alexa was kicking, raw power shooting from her hip, and she slammed her knee against Mikhael's groin. As he released his hold over her mouth and nose, Alexa was screaming obscenities at him, the fury exploding from every pore of her body as she felt him get off her, laying on his side in a fetal position, clutching his groin in agony.

Alexa could see the gun at the top of her closet shelf, but she knew it was useless now without the magazine that lay next to it. She'd removed them a few days earlier, in preparation for Liam's weekend visit. By the time she'd be able to grab it and pump that magazine into the gun, Mikhael would be on top of her again.

Mikhael was cursing loudly. "How could you? Lucas North is a double agent," he was yelling but Alexa was beyond caring. She needed to get away from him.

The only thing she could do now was make a run for it. She sprang up from the floor, the pain in her knee where it had slammed against the stair step exploding and she gasped as her vision filled with stars with every step.

She limped hurriedly towards the stairs, aware that Mikhael had gotten up and was running towards her. He caught her just as she made it halfway down, tackling her and together they rolled down the stairs, a portion of the bannister breaking as Mikhael's body slammed against it. Blood was pouring from her nose where Alexa had hit her face against something hard, and yet more coming from Mikhael, their blood staining the pale carpeted stairs.

Alexa grabbed a loose balustrade that had clattered towards her and swung it at Mikhael. He yelled in anger as it hit his forearm, cutting a deep gash in his skin. Before Alexa could bring her arms back to hit him again, Mikhael struck her with his other hand, the blow sending Alexa across the landing and Alexa's head slammed against the wall, almost knocking her out.

Somewhere in the distance, she could hear her phone ringing.

Alexa pulled herself up, struggling to regain control of her body, her goal in sight. The door. It was so close, and it was wide open. Beyond it, she saw a small crowd of people gather outside, wondering why no one was coming in to help her.

As she got up, she teetered and hit the wall with her shoulder as she fought to keep her balance. Her hand became limp, the balustrade falling from her grip. Her head was throbbing from pain, her ears ringing. Or was that just the phone ringing constantly?

The shattered door was so close now. Alexa could touch it and she tried to reach for it, but the her world was spinning uncontrollably, her vision fading fast. Behind her, Mikhael was calling her a damn minx, a bitch, and other names she could only guess. She felt him pull her by her hair, yanking her backwards and Alexa fell to her knees.

Her body felt like a rag doll now, every ounce of energy dissipating from her muscles. She had fought a good fight, but she was losing fast. Her own body had given up on her.

The phone was still ringing. As she felt her body being whipped around to face Mikhael, she saw his face, half of it melted into a grotesque mask. Her eyes followed the arc of his arm as he raised it up to hit her again. Though the rage inside her was still there, it was dying now, her body unable to keep up with the desperate demands of her body to get up and run. Blood poured from her nose now, as if a faucet had been left running, drenching the floor beneath her and Alexa's knee slipped. She found herself sitting on the floor now, held up only by Mikhael's hand around her upper arm.

Mikhael watched her, a look of smug satisfaction written on his face. The girl had no more fight left in her though he admired her for daring to fight him. Nine years had taught her a few things, he thought.

Alexa brought an arm up to defend herself against Mikhael's approaching fist but it no longer mattered. The darkness that had tempted her earlier, urging her to give in to the sweet darkness had returned, and Alexa could feel the shadow of her fears creeping up her body, enveloping her in a coldness that permeated all the way to her bones.

Alexa's mind did not wait for Mikhael's hand to hit her. She felt herself leave, her essence flowing out of her body and rising above the shell of her body as she watched it collapse to the ground, a pool of blood beneath her.

There was no fight left in her now. Nothing at all.

Without waiting for her body to go limp in his arms, Mikhael slung her over his shoulder and stooped up to pick up the ringing phone. A small crowd had gathered outside, their phones to their ears as they called the police. Mikhael pocketed the phone and drew out his gun, pointing it at the crowd and they parted, making room for him as he unlocked the trunk of the car and tossed Alexa's body into it.

A man lunged forward, yelling for Mikhael to stop, but before he could reach the Russian, Mikhael drew his gun and fired two shots. The man crumpled to the ground as everyone spread out, screaming.

Mikhael got into the car and screeched away, not caring who saw him. What mattered to him the most was with him now. It was his insurance policy, one that would end his nine-year long mission to finally get her back. As Mikhael maneuvered his way through the side streets of London, he knew that the other half of the package was also on its way to him, just as Arkady had planned.

It was perfection.

And it was long overdue.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

From Knightsbridge, Ros and Jo turned south towards the direction of Trevor Square. They could see Alexa's street straight ahead and as they parked the car, they saw the people gathered outside Alexa's front steps. A man lay on the sidewalk, dead from two shots to the chest.

As they flashed their badges, people begun talking to them at the same time, telling them about the blonde monster who had thrown a woman into the trunk of the car, the description of the car, and the name of the man who lay dead on the street. He had been Alexa's next door neighbor.

Ros ran up the steps and stopped just before the shattered door. Every sense in her body was on high alert. She could sense the adrenaline still lingering in the space around her. She smelled the scent of blood in the air, the flat deathly silent. Somewhere in the living room towards her right, Ros could hear the tick-tock of a clock.

She pushed the door open with her foot, her eyes gathering information as the scene unfolded before her. The floor was covered in blood, the mark of bare feet upon the rug, its imprint sending a chill up and down Ros' spine. On the floor, she saw shattered pieces of wood from the bannister that now hung precariously from the top, its bottom portion torn apart, broken pieces of glass and more blood.

Lots of blood.

With her gun still in front of her, Ros secured the first floor. Then she walked upstairs, avoiding the tracks of blood that seemed to be everywhere. Alexa had put up a hell of a fight, she thought to herself and as she reached the top landing, she saw the battered door lying on the bedroom floor. Beyond it was Alexa's unmade bed.

Something told her that she wasn't going to find anyone, but she'd been trained to secure an area first, then ask questions later, and Ros was doing just that. She walked towards the other doors, kicking them open one at a time. The first door led her to the bathroom and the second, as soon as she kicked it open, gave Ros pause. As she stepped into the room, she felt her chest tighten.

Ros had always known that Alexa returned from Moscow pregnant with some unknown man's child, but she'd never been interested in learning anything more than that. After all, it was none of her business. But as she stared at the room before her, it was a reality that Ros knew she herself could never go through had it been her in Alexa's place.

_I would never have had the child._

A rugby ball lay by the bed, along with the usual playthings of little boys that ranged from teddy bears to Lego blocks and books. On the wall were photographs of the little boy, his dark hair highlighting the deep blue of his eyes. If it had been just some random person, Ros would not have bothered to linger inside the room. She'd be out of that room within seconds of securing it and moving back downstairs to wait for backup or go after their target.

But this wasn't just a random person. Though it wasn't something known to everyone at the Grid, Ros and Adam knew Alexa's relationship to Harry. She was like a daughter to her, and her son, a grandchild.

Behind her, Lucas took the stairs two at a time towards the bedroom but froze as he caught sight of what he saw beyond the door where Ros stood. His heart caught in his throat, his mind registering the toys on the floor, the drawings on the wall interspersed with photographs of Alexa and a young boy, some together, and some just of him, with his impish grin and mischievous eyes.

He'd walked past this door this morning, he thought to himself as he took a step through the door. Something in the way the boy gazed past them in the photographs looked familiar to Lucas, something that reminded him of home. Above the photographs were wooden letter blocks in blues, greens and yellows, spelling the child's name:_ Liam_.

A chill passed through Lucas' body as Ros turned to look at him, her eyes wide at first at realizing he was behind her, then narrowing as she finally took in his presence. She turned to look at the photographs again and without a word, she walked past him to meet Harry who had just walked into the flat downstairs.

Left alone in the room, the boy seemed to look straight at Lucas, his smile wide upon his face. Fair of skin, with dark hair, he seemed the epitome of so much life, so much promise. And next to him, Alexa's face beamed, absolutely glowing. Lucas stared at the boy's face again, riveted. He looked to be about seven or eight years old, Lucas thought, the skin on the back of his neck beginning to tingle.

_She never told me._

Downstairs, the hallway began to fill up with authorized personnel, people assigned to measure blood spatters and measure trajectories and whatnot. Lucas didn't care for them. He couldn't. Not right now.

Lucas tore his eyes away from the boy's smile, forcing himself to walk towards Alexa's bedroom, the heaviness in his chest growing more oppressive with each step as the hallway threatened to close in on him. He felt as if he were sleep-walking, able to walk purely by sheer willpower alone.

The trail of blood had originated from the bedroom, where the door lay on the floor right next to the unmade bed where just a less than two hours earlier, Lucas had lain with her. To tear down a door like that, Mikhael Lubienko must have had the strength of a giant.

He had seen the scene downstairs, imagining how Alexa must have fought for her life. The blood on the floor attested to that, the marks of her bare feet imprinted in blood upon the carpet floor as she struggled to make her way towards the door. The four walls of the room rushed towards him, the sound of the wind deafening him as a wave of emotions came over him, forcing him to his knees.

He could have been here with her, Lucas thought again and again. He could have protected her.

But he hadn't.

Downstairs, Harry's mind was going through a rush of emotions as he fought to remain as calm and controlled as he could. He'd seen Ros' face as she had come downstairs just a few minutes earlier, seen her shake her head as she walked over towards him, confirming his fears even before she said anything.

Harry could not forgive himself for not having foreseen this. It all made sense. It would not have been difficult to find the link between Lucas and Mikhael Lubienko, if one knew where to look. The chance of anyone ever linking both men together had been so slim that even Harry would have never thought of it, unless someone talked.

Harry had always believed that Mikhael never knew who Dimitri, the man who had found Alexa in his club, really was. And even if he had, it would have been impossible to guess his real name.

_Unless you were FSB._

His phone rang and Harry saw that it was Malcolm. "Yes, Malcolm," he said, stepping outside the door, wanting only fresh air.

"You asked me to look into Alexa George's files, sir," Malcolm was saying. "So I went as far back as when she first returned to England with you."

"And?"

"I couldn't find anything other than the transcripts of the debriefing -"

"Did you find anything out of the ordinary, Malcolm?" Harry asked impatiently. "Tell me something I don't know."

"I tapped into the her old hospital files, which led me to her current one on the hospital records computer system," Malcolm said.

"And?" Harry noticed that the news film crew had spotted him and were heading towards him. He shook his head at them and walked back into Alexa's flat, the cameras busy clicking behind him. He could hear the sound of keys tapping on Malcolm's end as he walked upstairs where it was quieter.

"I'm not the only one who's interested in Alexa George's files, sir."

Harry slipped into Liam's room, shutting the door behind him. "What do you mean?"

"Three weeks ago, someone hacked into the hospital computer system," Malcolm continued. "I'm still running the program to find the source of the break, but whoever it was, they wanted only specific patient records."

Harry felt his throat go dry. "They didn't even bother to conceal their purpose. What were they looking for?"

"Alexa George and a Liam Nathaniel George," Malcolm replied. "Isn't that Alexa's father, the ambassador? They were able to access all his files, including immunization records, blood tests, and -"

Without waiting for Malcolm to finish, Harry thanked him and hung up. A chill went through Harry's heart. They weren't accessing Alexa's father's files, he told himself. They were after Liam's.

Harry found Ros by the stairs with Jo right behind her. "Ros, I want you and Jo to go to St. Barnabas as fast as you can," he said. "Bring Liam back to the Grid with you."

Minutes seemed to last much longer as Lucas sat on the floor, his back against the wall.

Dark visions had taken over him, the sights and sounds and smells of the years he had spent in prison rushing towards him, like waves upon the shore. The smell of blood brought back the taste of it, its coppery smell filling his mouth and nose, offering him no respite from the visions that followed.

And with the smell came the sound of his screams as they tortured him. Lucas brought his hands to his ears to stifle the sounds but it was useless. They lived inside him now, companions that refused to leave and to his horror, Lucas found how dependent he had become of them during his time in solitary confinement. He had craved their voices, the sounds of their demands, the pain that accompanied their presence, and finally, the sound of his own screams.

But now Lucas could hear Alexa's voice screaming inside his head. He could only imagine the pain she had gone through all alone, fighting for her life, in this very room.

Suddenly the the taste of bile rose up his throat and Lucas almost gagged, tears clouding his eyes. Eventually the moment of nausea passed and Lucas caught his breath, its acid taste still in his mouth as Harry quietly pulled up a chair and sat in front of him.

Below them, on the first floor, the flurry of activity continued, cameras clicking and people asking and answering questions. Outside the flat, Lucas heard the faint sound of flashbulbs as the news vans made their presence known, the number of witnesses more than enough to give them a big story for the day.

But in the silence of the second floor, inside Alexa's bedroom, it was only the sound of the two of them breathing.

For a few minutes, Lucas could only look at the older man's shoes as he fought hard to return to the present, the echoes of his own screams fading in the distance as he struggled to regain himself. Lucas' breathing, which had been rapid and shallow, became softer and calmer. Finally the only thing Lucas heard was silence.

"Lucas," Harry said, finally breaking the silence. "Tell me everything you know about Lubienko."

"Everything I know about Lubienko is in that report I wrote nine years ago, Harry," Lucas replied. "You should ask Kachimov about him."

"Kachimov is dead, Lucas."

Lucas looked up at Harry, his eyes searching for the truth of what Harry just said in his face. As if a heavy weight that had been placed upon Lucas' chest had just been lifted, Lucas breathed a long sigh of relief, his emotions a mix of sadness and elation for the man.

"He was a bad man, Harry. And if all this," Lucas looked around him, his eyes settling on the spots of blood on the floor. "If all this is his doing, all because I betrayed his trust, I can only imagine how far his plans go."

Lucas frowned as a thought came to him. "Elizabeta," he said. "Is she safe?"

Harry nodded. "I've put our best men on to watch her & family." Harry watched as Lucas' shoulders sank, and the young man leaned his head back against the wall again, his face pale.

"Kachimov never said anything about Alexa to you then?" Harry asked. "All those years, he never said anything or mentioned her name?"  
Lucas shook his head, his brow creasing as he tried hard to remember. "Never. I never even realized that he knew about her or Lubienko."

"I don't understand why anyone would come after her now, after so long," Harry said to himself. "There's something here we're not seeing, Lucas. Your release, Kachimov, and now Lubienko. It all ties into what happened nine years ago."

Lucas slowly pulled himself up from the floor. He was focused now, the nightmares finally receding. As he stared at Harry, his gaze hardened, something behind his eyes turning back on. He'd succeeded in pushing back the demons into the darkness of his memories, wanting only to be focused on the present, on what needed to be done. He could no longer let any of his fears or weaknesses to get the best of him. Not anymore.

The old Lucas he knew was finally back, but first he wanted answers.


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

_The whole wood seemed running now, running hard, hunting, chasing, closing in round something or - somebody? In panic, he began to run too, aimlessly, he knew not whither._  
**The Wind in the Willows**

She could not believe how easy it had been to get past the main office and from there, exit the doors that led into St. Barnabas' inner courtyard. As the woman hurried through the path leading to the rugby fields, she smiled. She could see two groups of young boys running around the field in the distance and her eyes immediately spotted the dark-haired boy in the middle of a huddle among the group closest to the edge of the field.

It wasn't unusual to have parents come and watch their children in the middle of the day, cheering them on, especially for the children in the early grades. Many of them suffered from serious bouts of homesickness. The woman behind the desk at the visitor's office had simply directed her towards the east field where the games were being held.

As the visitor hurried through the path, heading to the north field to join the other parents on the sidelines, she pursed her lips and whistled.

It was a loud whistle, and as the boys from both groups playing their separate games looked up, the woman wanted only one boy's attention.  
Liam George, who had been in a huddle with his teammates, a mop of hair obscuring his vision, looked up and he flipped his head impatiently to get the bangs away from his eyes. The boy scanned the faces sitting among the bleachers, searching for the source of the familiar sound.

Normally Liam would see his mother among them, but he knew she couldn't whistle. Only one person could whistle like that, he thought. His face broke into a grin when he saw her and he waved.

The coach signaled a break and the children left the field. Liam ran towards her and brought his arms around the woman's waist. He had grown another inch since she had last seen him.

"Where's mummy?" He asked as the woman ruffled his hair playfully. She wore a smile but it seemed frozen on her face. She was trying to hide the nervousness inside her, her eyes scanning the fields behind them. She had to act fast, she thought, yet be as calm as possible so as not to alarm the boy, or the school officials for that matter.

"She's at the office," Nadia Ravin said. "She sent me to pick you up."

Liam frowned. "Headmaster Jones didn't say anything about mummy picking me up."

Nadia shrugged and bent down, her face in line with Liam's. "She's in a meeting right now, otherwise, she would have been here," she said in her thick Russian accent.

She'd been working very hard in learning her English and so far, it was working. Two nights a week, she attended the local college, having enrolled in a course that was designed to enhance one's knowledge of the English language, and possibly, rid oneself of an accent. As far as her accent went though, that was a different story.

"Should I get my things?" Liam asked.

Nadia shook her head. As she spoke, she hoped Liam could not tell how much her voice was quivering. "You should be back in two hours. Your mum just wants to have lunch with you."

Liam looked towards the direction where his coach and the rest of the boys were. Some of his classmates were laughing and playing around, tossing the rugby ball at each other. His coach turned towards his direction and gave him a wave, beckoning for him to return. Liam began to turn away from Nadia but she grabbed his arm.

"Don't you want to have lunch with your mum? I've already spoken to the headmaster about it." She lied, her voice suddenly urgent.

Across the field, she saw a black car stop at the edge of the visitor's parking lot. Two people got out, their faces scanning the field before them. They first observed the group closest to them before directing their attention to Liam's class at the farther end of the field. Nadia's chest tightened as the faces seemed to freeze towards their direction, spotting them.

"Liam, listen to me," she whispered as she brought the boy closer to her. "Remember when your mum told you about bad people?"

The boy nodded.

"There are some very bad people looking for you now," she said as Liam looked at her, his eyes wide. "They're over there, in the black car and they're heading this way."

Liam looked across the field and saw them, striding purposefully across the field. Though they were quite far away from them, Liam felt something inside him stir. He frowned, glancing around them. No one had noticed the two strangers yet.

"Can't we call the police?" He asked and Nadia shook her head.

"There is no time." Nadia's grip was tight around his arm. "Is there any other way to get outside the school?" Nadia asked.

Liam nodded, turning to face her. "There's always ways outside," Liam said. He'd heard the older boys talk about ways to get out of the school, and he'd even seen them draw their maps as they sat around the dining table, their heads huddled together, whispering. But for now, he knew there was only one quick way out from where they stood, and they would have to do it in full view of everyone.

Taking Nadia's hand, Liam began to run as fast as he could towards the row of bushes that bordered the street side of the field. Behind them, they could hear the coach yelling Liam's name, his lone voice suddenly joined by other voices, shouting this time as people started to scream and scatter throughout the field.

Ros and Jo arrived at the visitor parking lot of St. Barnabas just before the screaming began. Two men were running towards the group of people on the northern edge of the field, and as Ros and Jo rushed after them, they could see people scattering everywhere, hear them screaming as the two men barreled through the children playing touch rugby.

Ahead of them, running towards the line of trees bordered by a fence that separated the field grounds from the street outside, were a boy and a woman. When the boy turned to look back towards them, Ros saw his face and recognized him from the photographs on the wall at Alexa's flat. Liam.

They were too far away, Ros thought. The men would be upon Liam and the woman by the time Ros or Jo would ever close the distance between them. Ros turned back towards the car, leaving Jo to chase after the men.

She gunned the engine and sped across the lawn, the wheels spitting grass and earth behind her. Ros drove the car through a clearing in the field that was thankfully free of children and adults. The coaches of both teams were yelling out to their students, getting them to run towards one direction and like a team united, they seemed to follow orders despite the screaming all around them.

Suddenly one of the men turned and raised a gun towards the car and Ros ducked as the first bullet ricocheted off the side of the window. As bullets continued to bounce off the car, Ros pulled the steering wheel sharply to the left, sending the car skidding across the grass, the wheels spinning and throwing grass and mud everywhere as the wheels struggled to gain traction against the soft ground.

Ros heard more shots ring out just as she pulled the hand brake, feeling the car careen towards the fence. This time, the shots hadn't been aimed at her. From the corner of her eye, Ros watched Jo approach a figure lying on the ground, unmoving, her gun still drawn in front of her.

As Ros turned her attention back towards the fence, she saw that Liam had climbed over the fence first and now the woman was just swinging her leg over just as her pursuer reached out to grab her arm. Ros stepped on the gas pedal again, heading towards the fence. Just before she would hit the fence, Ros stepped on the brakes, pulling the hand brake at the same time as she pulled the wheel towards the right and sending the car swerving towards the fence, slamming against it with a loud crash.

Ros slipped out of the car and using the car as a platform, climbed over the fence. She could see the man in the distance, and further ahead of him, Liam and the woman. _Who was she?_ Ros jumped the fence and ran after him, pulling out her phone and dialing the Grid. If they were on foot, Ros thought, they should be heading towards the nearest Tube station.

"What's the nearest station by St. Barnabas?" Ros asked the moment Malcolm picked up the phone, barely able to squeeze in a coherent greeting.

"Hammersmith," Malcolm replied quickly. "Is everything alright, Ros?"

"Tell Harry that someone got to Liam first but they're heading to the Tube." Ros could see the man straight ahead of her. "I'm going after him."

She hung up the phone and kept on running past the cars and the people meandering along the sidewalks. As Ros turned the corner, realizing too late that the man could be waiting for her, she heard the shots ring out and felt the shards of glass breaking from the windshields that shattered within inches of her.

The shots missed Ros by mere inches. She crouched down behind the cars and peered out. The man had slunk behind a pillar and she fired two shots towards him, giving herself enough time to seek a more secure cover.

All around her, pedestrians screamed and sought cover, scattering like flies. Though it was almost noon, and most people were at work, there were still a number of pedestrians on the street. As Ros peeked from behind where she hid, two more shots rang out and she ducked again, cursing as she watched the boy and the woman disappear around the corner.

Ros cursed beneath her breath. She were running out of time.

Two more shots rang out and this time the glass behind Ros shattered and she felt the pieces of glass sprinkle her hair and neck. Then two more shots, this time coming from behind her.

Ros turned to see Jo seek cover behind a Volvo.

"He's headed into the station," Ros yelled. "I'll cover you."

The man ran ahead of them again, still in pursuit of Liam and the woman and this time, Ros emerged, training her gun on him. She was tired of the games. As the man turned towards them, his arm raised and ready to shoot again, Ros saw her chance.

She pulled the trigger and fired three shots in cold succession. _One. Two. Three_.

They were almost there.

Nadia slipped off her coat and draped it over Liam. The boy shivered as he stood with his back leaning against her, standing between her legs as she sat, her back straight, on one of the seats facing one of the train doors. They had just spent the last twenty minutes in sheer terror every time the doors swung open at every stop between Hammersmith and Westminster stations, Nadia's eyes darting back and forth between the doors to see if anyone was coming after them.

They had heard the gunshots behind them as they fled the field, but Nadia could not risk looking back to see who was shooting whom. She only knew that they were both unharmed, though the little boy was scared. He held her hand the entire time, never letting go even when Nadia struggled to get the passes required for the train fare.

Liam did not speak, his eyes wide with fear as Nadia held him the entire time inside the train. He knew something was terribly wrong. He saw it in the young woman's face, the way she paled when she saw the two men begin to run towards them from across the field and asked him if he knew a way out of the school. He heard the fear in her voice, feel it vibrate in the space between them.

Though Liam knew everyone considered him too young to understand many things, like what Found Hope, the foundation his mother had started a year earlier, was all about, or why he never had a father to call his own, he understood a lot more than people assumed.

Liam understood that a bad man had once caught his mother, and that she had been held against her will for some time and that people did bad things to her, things he could not understand yet. But if he could not understand the things grown people did to each other, he perceived them as a child imagined how a dragon could kidnap a princess and keep her in a cave, while a knight in shining armor came to rescue her. But until that knight arrived, the nightmares were always there.

Liam had heard the nightmares from inside his mother's room whenever they came at night. She would scream and cry, and call out a name for help. She would plead and beg in the darkness for the monster to stop what he was doing.

And from the quiet of his room, Liam would often climb off his bed to lie next to her. He'd touch her cheek, usually damp from tears and sweat, and tell her in his little voice, that everything was alright. His mother always awoke whenever his little fingers touched her cheek. Then she'd gather Liam in her arms and thank him, her little munchkin hero, for saving her from the dragon.

And though Alexa had never spoken of her nightmares to him, Liam knew that one day they'd come back again, and this time, they would no longer be bound to her dreams.

They would all be real.

They arrived at the Westminster Tube station without incident and quickly exited the train, hurrying up the escalator steps. Liam gazed at the massive tubes that criss crossed the space above them, the cement and steel architecture brought to life by strategically placed lights all over the station.

Liam remembered arriving at Westminster station once when Alexa brought him to Thames House to visit Harry less than a year ago, just before he started attending St. Barnabas. Harry had always discouraged visits to the MI5 headquarters, but his mother had been quite upset over a decision Harry had made without consulting her and so they had made the trek to see Harry by taking the Tube.

And while Alexa hardly noticed the architecture of the massive underground station, Liam found himself enamored by all the gray cement and steel that surrounded him, the cylindrical tubes that seemed to float high above them and stand around them, as if holding the high ceilings up. Chains appeared to hang from up high, with no apparent purpose other than to give the station a noir feel to it. And whenever Liam spoke, even in awed whispers, he heard his voice bounce along the walls, as if he were in a cathedral. Only this one was completely made of cement and steel.

As Liam looked around them, turning his attention to the stairs behind them, he noticed the man making his way up the steps towards them, a newspaper tucked under his arm. As Liam continued staring at the him, the man looked up, caught his gaze and looked down. But then, he raised his eyes up and stared at Liam, and the boy knew.

The dragon had finally come.

He gripped Nadia's hand and began walking up the steps faster, alighting at the top floor and hurrying along the large hallways, following the signs that would take them up to the street level. Though he'd only been through here once, Liam saw that everything around him seemed as if he'd just been here yesterday. He pulled at Nadia's hand, forcing her to follow him as he made his way through the wide passageways, barely reading the signs for he already knew how to get to the street level.

Just one more flight of stairs and they'd be above ground, on the street, facing the Houses of Parliament. Liam wondered if it would be a much safer place for both of them to be in, if they were being chased by bad men.

"Where are we going, Nadia?" He asked. "Are we meeting mummy here?"

All that time inside the train, he wondered if his mother would be meeting them. He hadn't dared ask Nadia then, for fear that bad men were sitting next to them. Besides, both of them had been too scared to say anything, all their energy spent on watching the doors open and close, ready to bolt should anyone charge them.

Nadia shook her head as they walked onto the street, relief flooding through her body. She looked around her and saw no sign of the man with the folded up newspaper. For a minute she stood disoriented, and she looked around her, her face a mask of confusion.

Before her was the House of Parliament, tourists posing for photographs along the sidewalk. She turned to Liam. "Do you know where your uncle works?" She asked, rubbing her hands together nervously.

"Uncle Harry?" Asked Liam. "Is that where we're going?"

Nadia shook her head, grabbing Liam's hand. "No, Liam. That's where _you're_ going."

Nadia couldn't get herself to go with him. She would walk him up to the doors and let him go in alone. Then she would face the consequences for her actions, her betrayal.

Most of all, she couldn't leave Alexa to face her fate alone. Her hand began to shake uncontrollably as the thoughts came rushing through her and Nadia stifled a sob.

Liam looked up at her and she forced a smile, but the boy recognized the fear in her eyes and his face crumpled before her. He stopped walking and looked at her, tears welling in his large blue eyes.

"Is mummy alright?" He asked, his voice faltering.

But Nadia couldn't answer. Her shoulders shook as she fought desperately to keep the tears at bay but it was no use. The adrenaline that had propelled her through the last hours had ebbed away and she was left with only the fear that now took residence in her bones, seeping through her skin, chilling her.

She had known of Mikhael's plans but had done nothing to warn Alexa. For the five days, she had known Mikhael, the man who had tormented Alexa for months, was in London and she had done nothing. She had been too scared.

And Kachimov. Kachimov had been the worse of them all, terrorizing her and threatening to kill her if she did not cooperate. Kachimov promised her that Alexa would not be hurt, that it was the MI5 man Mikhael wanted.

And so Nadia had cooperated. She had had no choice either way. But when Mikhael said that he wanted the boy, too, Alexa found herself drawing the line in the sand.

_Not the boy. Anyone but the boy_. He did not need to see the same horrors Alexa or Nadia had faced for so long.

Suddenly they heard the sound of a car screeching to a stop a few feet away. Arms grabbed Liam from behind, wrapping around him and the boy started kicking and screaming. Nadia threw herself at the man who had been following them, punching and kicking him but the driver of the car had emerged and was now taking Nadia by the waist, dragging her into the car.

People crowded around them as the driver punched Nadia in the face, knocking her out cold, calling for his partner in Russian to hurry and bring the boy into the car. In the distance, guards began to run towards the commotion.

Liam felt himself being lifted and he squirmed, twisting his body wildly till his arms slipped free of Nadia's bulky coat. The man had carried him as far as the car door and as he tried to toss Liam into the car, the boy slipped, his feet hitting the pavement and he landed between the man's legs. Liam crawled away, and stood up. Inside the car, Nadia was lying on her side on the car floor, blood streaming from her nose.

The man turned towards Liam and reached out to grab him.

Then Liam was running, hearing the car door slamming shut and the sound of an engine revving up. Liam ran as fast as he could, avoiding tourists standing with their mouths agape, some of them reaching out their hands towards him to stop him and help but there was no one he could trust now.

He ran away from their open arms, looked away from their pleading faces, and ignored their cries for him to stop. Around him, cars honked and people yelled, calling out to him, but Liam did not hear them.

"Hey! Boy!" they had yelled, but Liam ignored them. They were just strangers calling for a little boy to stop running.

But Liam could not stop. The dragon had come for him and it had almost taken him. He continued running till he turned north towards Millbank, where he knew Harry Pearce's office was located, exactly as his mother had shown him almost a year ago.

Cars drove past him and behind him, guards continued to pursue him, yelling at him to stop. But Liam was not stopping for anybody.

Behind him, a car screeched to a stop and someone called his name. Liam heard the pounding of footsteps behind him, someone calling out his name again and again, telling him to stop. Then a pair of arms grabbed him, pulling him up from the ground and this time Liam couldn't fight back anymore. He shut his eyes and began to cry.

He was tired. He was scared. He wanted to see his mother and feel her arms around him, hear her voice tell him that everything was going to be alright.

He felt the arms holding him from behind set him down on the ground. Someone else knelt in front of him. "Liam, it's me."

This time the voice belonged to someone he knew. Someone he trusted. Liam opened his eyes as Harry wiped his tears away.

"Liam, it's me," Harry said again. "You're alright."

As Liam recognized Harry's face, he sobbed and rushed into the man's arms, feeling himself enveloped in a cocoon of warmth and safety. This time, Liam's body shook all over as he cried, and Harry carried him into the car.

Lucas followed close behind him, unable to speak, the feeling of holding the boy in his arms for the first time sending chills down his spine.

For the first time that morning, since Harry had told him about the years that had passed since Alexa's return from Moscow, about Mikhael Lubienko and Kachimov's prying into Alexa and Liam's medical files and the independent blood test that Harry himself had run a few years earlier, the realization hit Lucas for the very first time.

_He had a son._


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12**

_"This life's dim windows of the soul distorts the heavens from pole to pole, and leads you to believe a lie when you see with, not through, the eye."_  
William Blake

Alexa was dreaming, lost in a sea of faces she did not recognize. As she looked about the hall, she sought Liam's face and saw him sitting on one of the chairs by the wall. Next to him was Nadia, taking her babysitting duties quite seriously as Alexa worked the room like she always did in such events.

This time, it was some sort of gala, a fundraiser for her foundation, Found Hope, but no one in the crowd was a familiar face. Yet everyone was looking at her, staring at her and she wondered if she had worn something inappropriate, or nothing at all.

Something told her that this was no dream - that this was a memory. Only now she felt like a stranger was looking in.

Alexa looked down at herself and saw that she was wearing a deep teal gown, one that accented her slim waist and long legs in the way the long folds fell to the floor, each vertical fold accentuating her slim figure. One of her late mother's diamond necklaces graced her neck, the glistening stone resting coldly between her breasts. She wondered why she was wearing such a revealing dress at such a respectable event, and as she looked up, she saw a man coming towards her, a knowing smile on his face.

Alexa recognized him immediately, though something told her to look away, and pretend she barely knew him. He had come by the office that afternoon, saying he was picking up some brochures for his company that had just moved into London. Tall, with graying hair cropped close to the scalp, the man wore dark framed glasses that accented a set of friendly looking eyes and an easy smile. He wore a pretty expensive suit under an equally expensive wool coat.

He had acted a little familiar with her and her employees at the office, something that unnerved Alexa. As his gaze had flicked towards her that afternoon, she felt a shiver travel down her spine. He's looked at me like before, she had thought then, and looked away. _Should I know him?_

To Nadia, he had smiled at her in a way that made the girl tremble so that Nadia had to excuse herself to work in the back room where the only thing that had to be done was sort old clothing supporters donated.

When her employees, both of them Russian, urged him to speak in English, he insisted in speaking only in Russian, asking them penetrating questions about where they were from, what village they grew up in and where they had been taken prior to their rescue. And he had done it all with the same easy smile on his lips, yet Alexa could see that behind the friendly eyes was a cold and calculating man. Should I know him?

After he had left the office, Nadia returned to her desk. The girl was still shaking, her hands trembling as she picked up a pen to write something on a report.

"Do you know him?" Alexa had asked and Nadia looked up, startled.

"No. No, I don't know him," she replied nervously.

"Why were you afraid of him?"

Nadia shrugged. "He just, how do you say it in English, creeps me out."

Alexa nodded, touching Nadia's shoulder. "I understand," she said and walked towards the front door to shut it, the old wood frame having expanded from the recent damp rain, and the door was refusing to shut completely again.

At this fundraiser gala a few hours later, here he was walking towards her, an appreciative look in his eyes as he surveyed her from head to foot. Alexa felt naked beneath his gaze and she wished she had something to cover herself with, but it was too late.

He stood before her now, a smile on his lips. He looked at her again as if he knew her so well. She could see it in his eyes, that certain familiarity of a hunter watching its captive prey. Didn't she just meet him that afternoon? She asked herself, finding herself adrift in a sea of memories.

"Miss George," he said in his heavily accented Russian. "How very nice to meet you again. I thoroughly enjoyed your talk tonight. You are a very intelligent and beautiful woman."

In the darkness of the boot of the car, Alexa stirred as she lay on her side, her head feeling like it were about to split in two. This wasn't a dream, she thought to herself. It was like she was straddling the veil between what was real and what wasn't. What she had just seen and heard had been real. It had happened. She struggled to remember when, and after a few minutes, she did, though she remained asleep.  
It was less than two months ago, when she'd passed the reins of her foundation to the board of directors. An invitation-only event that had brought out bigger foundations with similar goals such as hers.

She felt her body rolling in the darkness of the trunk that held her and this time, she knew she was awake but barely. The darkness was broken by streams of red and white lights from the signal lights on either side of the hood. Her bare feet touched cold metal and cheap upholstery. Alexa's head hit something hard as the car screeched to a stop and she groaned, her head feeling like it were about to explode.

Outside, she heard a man yelling in Russian. She made out a few words, but the pain in her head made her feel weak, and soon Alexa passed out into the darkness of her dreams.

"Mr. Arkady Kachimov," her dream self said, extending a hand towards the tall smiling man. He brought her hand to his lips and she felt the goosebumps travel along her arm as she pulled it away.

"I don't remember giving you an invitation," she said coldly, not caring about propriety or manners. His visit at her office that afternoon had unnerved her. It was the way he had looked at her. It was as if he knew her secrets.

"I apologize," Arkady said, smiling and tilting his head. "I was able to, how do you say it, finagle an invitation to this event." He looked around, nodding. "I'm quite impressed, Miss George. You know many people in high places."

"The board of directors do, Mr. Kachimov. I don't. I'm simply a small fish in a big pond, as they say." She tried her best to be civil to him, but Alexa couldn't help but feel a chill run up and down her spine no matter how she tried to brush off the feelings of animosity that never failed to creep up every time he looked at her. The question rose again, _Should I know him?_

"I made a donation to your foundation," he began, as if he hadn't heard what she said. "It's the least I can do. In my country, many girls are not as lucky as you, I hear. And as long as your foundation offers to help the ones who manage to get out alive, and give them a new life, I will forever be a supporter."

"That is kind of you, Mr. Kachimov," she said. "I hope you made donations to the other foundations as well. The need is great."

She began to walk away but Arkady said something else that made her stop and turn back towards him.

"You were indeed very lucky to have someone from MI5 find you in Moscow, were you not, Miss George?" Kachimov said. "Did you happen to know his name? If it were me, I would personally thank the man for saving you and bringing you back to England. You are such a gift to this world."

"You are a man of flattery, Mr. Kachimov, but I'm afraid I'm going to disappoint you." Alexa's heart began to thunder inside her chest as she stared at him. "I never found out his name," she lied.

"That's unfortunate," Arkady said, his lips turning downwards. "But yet you are so fortunate, Miss George, to have such connections within British Intelligence. They were able to help you leave Moscow, yes?"

Alexa frowned. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid your information is so wrong. I have no connections whatsoever with British Intelligence." She began to turn away again. There was something about Arkady Kachimov that told her that he was a dangerous man, someone who used secrets to his advantage. Alexa wondered if he collected secrets as a hobby.

"But Harry Pearce is your godfather, isn't he?" Kachimov continued. "Someone here mentioned it just a few minutes ago. I thought that was quite interesting, him being director of the Counter-Terrorism Department of MI5."

"I doubt if anyone in this room knew that information, Mr. Kachimov, but I will give you the benefit of the doubt." Alexa felt the anger rise, her face reddening at the thought of him prying into her business.

Though Harry had brought her foundation to the attention of people he knew when she first started Found Hope, his connection to her as her godfather had always been something between the closest of friends. As far as Alexa knew, only Harry's people in Section D knew that.

"Maybe you did hear it from somebody here tonight, but my relationship with Mr. Pearce is strictly none of anyone's business."

Arkady smiled, his eyes appraising her with renewed interest. "Now I understand why he liked you," he murmured. "You're a matryoshka."

"Pardon me," Alexa said, her voice rising slightly. "What did you say?"

Arkady looked up, as if startled. "Forgive me, Miss George. I'm simply an old man talking to himself."

Alexa sighed and took a step backward, tired of the game he was playing. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, Mr. Kachimov," Alexa said and walked away, not caring if she was rude to the man or not.

He had stepped over the line, she thought. His conversation was meant to elicit reactions from her and she had fought so hard to keep her surprise at bay, to remain calm before him. She had learned that from Harry - to never show weakness, or surprise, to the enemy. Alexa had been right to be cautious around Arkady. He had shown her just how dangerous he was by letting her know the things he knew about her and Harry Pearce.

Just then Alexa felt a tug by her side and she looked down to see Liam, looking quite dashing in his tuxedo. His dark hair had been recently trimmed and she had used some gel to keep it parted to one side, which made him look quite a lady's man, as she had teased him earlier.

But right now, Liam looked utterly bored.

"Can we go home now?" He asked. Liam was holding a hand-held game console in his hand, but even that had failed to entertain him tonight. "I'm really tired."

Liam rubbed his eyes but Alexa raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm sure when we get home, your exhaustion will dissolve as soon as you get to your room and you'll spend all night playing your games."

Liam frowned but said nothing. He looked away, his shoulders slumping exaggeratedly.

"Can you give mum just a few more minutes to say good-bye to friends?" She asked him, bending down to address him as she stared at his face. His blue eyes looked back at her and he shrugged, sighing as he did so.

"If you have to," he said pouting.

Alexa laughed. "Don't be a brat," she said and kissed him on the cheek.

Suddenly Alexa felt someone by her side. She straightened up to see herself facing Arkady again, his eyes studying Liam intently. A smile slowly crept on Arkady's face, a knowing and mysterious smile, as if he were a cat who had just swallowed the canary.

"What a beautiful child you have, Miss George," he said. "He reminds me of someone I know very well."

This time, Alexa ignored him. She turned her back to him, pulling Liam along with her as they waded through the crowd of patrons and headed for the door. She hadn't even bothered to say good-bye to anyone. She was unable to speak for a few minutes, even as she waited for the limo to arrive and drive them home.

As Liam buried himself in the game he played on his console, Alexa's mind only screamed two words again and again.

_He knows he know he knows._

Suddenly the car screeched to a stop and Alexa's body slammed against the back seat of the car, jarring her back to the present. It took her a split second to realize where she was as she heard the sound of people screaming, muffled against the metal and the upholstery. She began to pound on the roof of the trunk of the car, screaming for help. Surely someone out there could hear me, she thought.

She heard voices speaking in Russian. She recognized Mikhael's voice. He was shouting at someone.

Then she heard a scream. It was a child's scream. Liam's scream.

"Oh God no," she gasped. Alexa beat her hands against the hood, her bare feet pounding painfully against the metal as she screamed and cried, her voice echoing inside the trunk. She could hear a scuffle, the sound of something being thrown into the car and her heart sank. Yet her child continued to scream, yelling no no no and Alexa screamed back the same words.

"Leave him alone, you bastard," she screamed, crying.

Tears streamed from her eyes as she heard the sound of cursing, the sound of a car door slamming shut.

Alexa lay still, her heart stuck in her throat, waiting for a familiar voice, a sound she knew by heart. But it was quiet and the only sound Alexa could hear was the loud beating of her heart against her chest, the rush of blood assaulting her head, blood pulsing through the veins along her temples. It was so silent, she thought.

Then the car lurched forward and they were speeding along the streets now. Alexa brought her ears against the back of the seats, straining to listen as voices began to talk, arguing with each other.

"Fool! You let him go!" Mikhael said, adding a few more insults as the car sped along.

"I could not help it. He slipped out of my coat," said the second man. "Besides you do not need the boy"

The car was speeding now, and Alexa felt herself being hurled from one end of the trunk to the other as the car swerved this way and that way for a few minutes. She held down the nausea that threatened to overcome her, her hands seeking for something to hold onto in her cramped prison.

She wondered where they were driving to but it was no use to guess in the darkness. Then the realization hit her hard, and she could not believe it. Liam had slipped out of the coat, the second man said. He slipped out of my coat.

Alexa began to laugh even as the tears continued to stream down her face. Liam had gotten away. Her little boy had escaped. He was safe from the madman.

After a few minutes, the swerving had ceased and Alexa could tell that they were finally on some major road. She tried to remain as calm as possible. As long as Liam was safe, she knew she could find a way out of this mess.

She took a few deep breaths to calm herself. She had to find a way out. Alexa began to run her hands through the edge of the cheap carpet where she lay, pulling it upwards with one hand so her other hand could search for some type of handle. Some cars often had a little alcove where tools such as tire irons or crowbars were stored, she thought. Surely she'd find something here.

After a few minutes of searching, she found what she was looking for. She found a screwdriver, and something else. Her fingers curled over a metal bar and she studied it with her other hand, like a blind man identifying an item. She was as good as blind inside the trunk anyway, she thought. But at least this time she was armed.

Alexa lay the crowbar on the carpet in front of her as she faced the opening of the trunk. She wasn't waiting for Mikhael to get to his destination and do whatever he wished with her. Not again. The last time she had waited, she had found herself in hell for six months.  
With her fingers, Alexa began to feel for the trunk latch, using the screwdriver to pry it open but after a few minutes, she realized it was useless. The signal and brake lights were her other option.

Using the screwdriver, Alexa began to pry the panel that concealed the lights, its edges illuminated from the outside each time the car slowed down or signaled. She slipped the screwdriver between the space and grunted as she pushed against the tool, hearing the metal snap open just when she was about to throw up from the motion sickness again.

She could see the wires now. She took the crowbar and began to push it against the lights, hoping that the lights would pop out of the exterior and she'd be able to break the light cover with the crowbar.

From the silence of the trunk, she froze when she heard a name mentioned from the front of the car. Mikhael was saying a name, asking the second man if he'd heard from him since last night.

Arkady, Mikhael had said. There was no mistaking what she had heard.

Images flashed through her mind as Arkady's name repeated itself again and again inside her head, her voice replaced by Arkady's own voice, at first saying his name. Then he started saying her name, a voice so smooth and familiar. Alexa, he was saying. Matryoshka. She began seeing his face now, not just hearing his voice. Alexa shuddered as the memory of his touch came to her, so familiar, so real.

Alexa began to work frantically now, slamming the end of the crowbar through the space where the light fixture was positioned. Maybe she'd have enough space to stick her hand out and signal some one in the cars behind this one for help. If Arkady was involved, that meant she was on borrowed time.

The question returned, clear to her this time. _Do I know him?_

And the answer, like a sound of breaking glass in a still quiet room. _Yes_.

She heard the bulb break against the light cover, kept pushing till she smashed the cover itself. She kept breaking the glass till she could see the road behind her, and yards away, the cars. Alexa slipped her hand through the space, feeling the metal edges scrape and cut through her skin.

She stifled a cry of pain as blood began to seep from her wound, but she had to do this. Alexa knew she had no other choice. Either she did this, or she'd die.

It was as simple as that.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPER 13

There was no mistaking the two reports that Lucas held in his hands. They both pointed to the same conclusion. As he flipped open the first of the two folders, his eyes alighted upon the words on the bottom of the page.

_The probability of Lucas North being the father of Liam Nathaniel George is 99.999%. Therefore it is practically..._

Lucas did not need to continue reading the line. He knew what it said. Lucas had read it three times since Harry handed the files to him in the car as they drove back to the Grid from Alexa's flat. They'd ridden in silence most of the way, as Lucas immersed himself into the file that was Alexa George's history from the time she had returned from Moscow.

Harry had not been idle as they had been driven back to the Grid. He was deep in conversation with Ros about the events at St. Barnabas and Hammersmith station, learning about the kidnapping of Liam George.

"It seems that someone else got to Liam before the two Russians and us," Ros said. "We're running their identities now but I didn't get a close look at the woman."

Harry had also received a call from Malcolm, who told him that Arkady had made one last call to another number that night. Only one word had been spoken.

"What was it?"

"Phoenix," Malcolm replied.

But all the new developments around him had not taken Lucas away from what lay before him. His whole world had changed, and its contents were contained in the folders he held in his hand.

According to the report, Alexa had been three weeks pregnant when she landed back in London nine years ago, but it would be three more weeks before the pregnancy would finally be confirmed. Despite the standard medical tests to ensure Alexa's overall health, from the complete check-up to the tests for any sexually transmitted diseases, of which none had been reported, there had been no tests administered for a possible pregnancy.

It wasn't till she started showing signs of morning sickness that her pregnancy was confirmed by her own personal doctor and Alexa decided to keep the baby despite her father's insistence for her to have an abortion.

Yet it would be the paternity test that Harry himself requested without Alexa's knowledge that revealed the truth of Liam's birth father, results which had shocked Harry that he had had a second one performed using another set of Lucas' DNA that MI5 had on file. And though he used a different company for the second try, the results had been the same.

Alexa's history on paper seemed pretty normal - as long as one didn't consider the additional reports from Adam Carter as part of the informal debriefing she was supposed to have received - but never did - with MI5. Lucas felt a pang of jealousy mixed in with curiosity. What would Adam have wanted to know? They could hardly have been social calls.

After Lucas had been captured in Russia, Tom Quinn had succeeded him as Section chief. And when Tom took early retirement, Adam had taken over, holding the position for almost four years. He had recently perished in a car bomb explosion barely three days earlier, hours after Lucas had just worked with him to rescue a kidnapped soldier.

According to the file, Adam had visited Alexa a few times to teach her how to use a gun, with all meetings occurring at the shooting range. Adam had also recommended that she attend some self-defense classes at a _dojo_ close to her home. Other than the four pieces of paper that represented each interaction Adam had had with Alexa, there had been no other contact between them. Yet the jealousy Lucas felt remained. He wondered if there were visits that hadn't been accounted for at all.

Lucas found himself rereading a line Adam had written on one of the notes: _Took Liam to play rugby with Wes this afternoon while Lexi went to yoga._

While Lucas had been finding ways to end his life in Moscow, a new life, one from his own flesh and blood, had been blossoming in London without him. And now that he had returned, Lucas could not understand why Alexa kept the news that he had a son away from him.

_Did she even know that Lucas was Liam's father? _

Lucas opened the second file folder. This time, the file was in Russian, and it caused a chill to run down his spine. This paternity test had been run just a few months earlier, using Alexa's and Liam's records that had been hacked from a hospital computer.

Lucas' mouth turned dry as he read the same paternity results written out in a different language. Someone else had known about Alexa and Liam.

Lucas looked up. Through Harry's office window, he watched as a doctor examined Liam for injuries as Harry looked on. The sight of Liam for the first time had shaken Lucas to the core. The familiar way Liam moved reminded Lucas of himself when he was the same age. Back then, he lived in a small Northern England town, with its wide open spaces where Lucas could run and play.

But instead of seeing a boy running freely and happily, Lucas saw a boy running for his life in the middle of London, with tourists and Parliament guards chasing after him. It had taken all of Lucas' willpower to stop himself from hurting anyone who dared lay a hand on Liam as he raced towards the child, catching him before he was about to cross a busy intersection.

It had been pure luck that they had come upon him the way they did, as they drove towards the Grid. It had been Malcolm's call that had alerted them to Liam's arrival at Westminster station, their eyes scanning the sidewalks for a sign of the boy and the unidentified companion.

"The station cameras have picked them up and they're not alone," Malcolm had said. From the different cameras, Malcolm had been able to spot the car that had driven up alongside them, and the men who had attempted to kidnap Liam.

One of them had emerged from the station behind them, while the other had been driving the car.

"The man emerging from the station is a high profile assassin, Harry," Malcolm said, the urgency in his voice unmistakable. "It's Anatoly Rubiev."

During those tense seconds, Harry's throat had gone dry, wondering why he hadn't anticipated an attempt on Liam at all. _But why Liam?_

Malcolm's voice returned on the phone. This time, there was relief in Malcolm's voice. "Liam just managed to get away. He's heading north." And as they drove past Westminster Bridge, that was when Harry saw him.

The sight of Liam running through the crowd of tourists had torn Lucas' heart into two. The boy's fear had been so palpable, his heart beating so loudly within his little body that Lucas could feel it against his own after he caught the boy. Lucas never wanted Liam to feel that scared ever again.

Safe at the Grid, Liam was being checked by a doctor when Lucas asked Harry why he had requested the paternity test. _Did he suspect it was Lucas all along?_

"When her father insisted that she get an abortion, and Alexa refused, it made me wonder - at least for her sake - why she wanted to keep the baby," Harry replied. "And when Liam was born, he looked just like you, it was so uncanny." Harry added. "So I had the tests done without her consent. Someone had to find out."

"Anyone can have black hair and blue eyes, Harry, " Lucas said.

"But not anyone can have _your_ black hair and blue eyes, Lucas," Harry interjected. "But there's no point in arguing about this now, is there? The tests confirmed all my suspicions."

"You're worse than that old woman you've assigned surveillance on me," Lucas said. Then he paused, a frown creasing his brow.

"Does Elizabeta know about him?" He asked, his voice low. "About Liam?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't think so."

The door to Harry's office opened and the doctor walked out with Liam next to him. Liam walked towards Harry, and together they headed towards one of the conference rooms where Malcolm had requested a cot to be brought in for the boy to sleep in.

"I suggest Social Services be called in to take over from here," the doctor said and Harry stopped, turning to face him with an annoyed expression on his face.

"There's no need for Social Services, John," he said. "His father will take care of him."

"Have you called the father then?" the doctor asked. "Until he arrives, I'll still have to call Social Services."

Lucas got up from his desk, the sound of the chair legs scraping the floor causing the doctor to look up at him sharply. "I'm his father," he said. "I'm here."

Liam looked up, his eyes wide, and he stared at Lucas but did not say anything. He turned to look up at Harry, a questioning look on his face, but Harry only nodded briefly towards him. "We'll all talk in the conference room," he said to Liam. "I've got a cot waiting for you, in case you're tired."

From his desk, Malcolm raised his eyebrows but kept his thoughts to himself. He was busy scanning the street cams for any sign of the car that had been spotted at the Westminster station. The doctor eyed Lucas warily but shrugged and showed himself out of the Grid.

Just then, Lucas saw Ros and Jo walk in.

"Where's Harry?" Ros asked Malcolm and Malcolm gestured towards the conference room. She looked up at Lucas and gave him a brief nod before walking away. Jo walked towards her desk, which faced the one that Lucas was currently using.

"How are you holding up?" She asked.

"I'll survive," Lucas replied. "What did you find out about the two men at St. Barnabas?"

While he had been perusing Alexa's files in the car, Lucas had overheard that both men had been shot dead. The first man had been shot by Jo on the rugby field at St. Barnabas after he had fired a series of shots towards Ros while civilians were all around him. Ros had shot the second man dead just before he made it into Hammersmith station where he could have caused so much harm.

"Both weren't FSB as we originally thought," Jo replied. "They had extensive Russian criminal records and just recently arrived in the UK a few days ago."

"What types of criminal activities are we talking about?"

Jo shrugged. "Petty theft, drugs, human trafficking."

"They're Lubienko's then," Lucas said, rubbing his hand against his chin as he sat back down on the chair. "That means they're taking orders only from Lubienko."

Harry emerged from the conference room, Ros walking next to him. He glanced at Lucas and as their eyes met, Lucas got up and headed to the conference room alone. As Lucas closed the door behind him, Ros turned towards Harry.

"How did he take the news?"

"Quite well, I think," Harry replied. "Though I wonder why Alexa didn't tell him herself."

Ros arched an eyebrow. "Quite interesting, Harry - Lucas and Alexa together so soon after he returns from Russia."

Harry shrugged. "You can't control these things, Ros. Sometimes it just happens?"

"How is Liam holding up?" Jo asked.

"I don't think he's processed it that far yet," Harry replied. "But I hope they can finally begin the process of establishing a relationship right now."

"Who was the woman with Liam at the train station? The one who got taken?" Jo asked.

"We've finally identified her. Her name is Nadia Ravin," Harry replied. "She works for Alexa. I don't know how she got to be at St. Barnabas this morning, but Liam said that she was taking him here, to the Grid."

"So you think she knew about the plan all along?" Ros asked. "And she was trying to save Liam?"

Harry shook his head. "We don't know yet. What we do know is that she told Liam that Alexa sent her to pick him up for lunch, and when the men arrived, she told him that the bad men were coming to take him."

"So she knew," Jo said. "How did she find out about it in the first place?" Jo said.

Harry turned towards Malcolm. "Any news of the car?"

"Not exactly. I think I've got the right car," Malcolm said as he tapped a few keys on the keyboard, various windows of traffic cams popping on his screen. "But I'm not even fifty percent certain."

"You need to be 100% certain before we can do anything," Harry said. "What about her phone? Is it online?"

Malcolm shook his head. "No, it's not. But as soon as it goes online, I'll let you know. We should be able to track it then."

Harry's phone rang and he answered it, turning away from them as he spoke in low tones. When Harry turned to face them again, Jo had returned to her desk and was pulling up Nadia's file on her computer.

"Ros, I want you to take over from here," Harry said. "That was the Home Secretary. He wants to meet me now."

As Harry walked towards the door, Ros followed him. "I won't be able to allot any of Section D's resources for Alexa if anything happens on the Grid," she said.

Harry stopped and faced her, nodding. "I'm afraid you're right. And as it is, there is a situation brewing. Anatoly Grubiev is not here for a vacation." He sighed. "I'm afraid we're going to be tied up in the next few hours, Ros."

"What about Lucas? Should I still put him on the team?"

Harry shook his head. "He's got enough to deal with. If anything comes up with Lubienko, Lucas will be on his own."

Harry's lips tightened in a straight line, and he took a deep breath. He hated leaving Lucas in a lurch like this, but national security had a higher priority over any of their own personal agendas, even though Harry himself had overstepped that rule when it came to dealing with Arkady Kachimov the night before.

"If you can spare it, then do it," Harry said. "But if you can't, Lucas will have to deal with Lubienko alone."

The boy's ordeal that morning had left him exhausted. And within five minutes after Harry had lain him down on the cot, Liam fell asleep. As Lucas watched the boy, observing the rise and fall of his chest, his slightly parted lips, and the thick lashes resting on his cheeks, Lucas found himself overwhelmed with the many emotions that rose from deep within him.

He had returned from Russia believing he had nothing. But as Lucas gazed at Liam's sleeping face, he knew now how wrong he had been to believe that.

The first night he had spent alone at the safe house, Lucas had been unable to sleep, his mind wrought with memories of Russia that he wanted so much to forget but couldn't. Russia was written in every cell of his body, the tattoos on his skin only telling half of the story. Deep inside, within his bones and sinews lay the horrors that he had seen and experienced first hand, the loneliness and the despair that had at times pushed him to the brink of taking his own life.

But in Russia, something had also been borne out of a fleeting moment he spent with a woman he'd been sent to find. A woman he barely knew. And out of that moment came a beautiful boy who now lay sleeping before him. If his time in Russia had imprinted itself in Lucas' very soul, tainting him and cursing him with its vitriolic memories, it had also given something to live for.

It had given him a son.

Lucas ran his fingers through his hair as he leaned back against the chair, breathing in and out slowly. His vision grew dark and he felt himself turn cold, as if a fog had somehow made its way into the room and slipped right through every pore of his body.

His breaths came, shallow and fast now. Sweat gathered on his brow. When he shut his eyes, Lucas saw himself bound to a chair, the sensation of electricity coursing through every nerve ending in his body, making him scream in agony every time the electrodes touched his skin. He got up from his chair and began pacing back and forth, fighting hard to keep himself calm.

He shut his eyes tighter, bringing his hand to his face as he rubbed his chin absently, the feel of his hands distracting him from what he was seeing and feeling deep inside. He stood with his back towards Liam, not wanting him to see him like this in case the boy awoke. Liam could never see him like this.

After a few minutes, the memories receded and Lucas sighed as he leaned his hand against the desk. As he opened his eyes, he noticed a lone file sitting at the head of the table.

"Are you really my dad?" Asked a small voice behind him and startled, Lucas turned to face Liam who was now sitting up on the cot, rubbing his eyes. _How long had Liam been watching him?_

Lucas sat down next to the boy and smiled. "Yes, I am."

"Mum said my dad was working in another country once," Liam said, his eyes watching Lucas intently, studying his face.

"She's right," Lucas said softly. "And now I'm back. I'm sorry I didn't get to visit you sooner, Liam."

Liam shrugged and absently he began to run a hand against the top of his thigh, back and forth as if rubbing a spot. "It's alright," he said. Then he looked up at Lucas. "Should I call you dad then?"

Lucas laughed. "Of course, I wouldn't want it any other way."

They sat in silence for a few minutes and Lucas brought Liam closer to him as he sat down next to the boy, the cot creaking beneath the added weight. He felt Liam lean against him, his head against the crook of his shoulder. Lucas bent down to kiss the top of Liam's head, closing his eyes as he inhaled the scent of his son for the first time. He fought back the tears that threatened to well up in his eyes and concentrated instead in the knowledge that Liam was safe with him.

"Is mummy going to be alright?"

Lucas took a few seconds to say the answer, his jaw tightening as he wondered where Alexa was at that moment, and whether she was still alive. "Yes," he whispered.

"I heard her inside the car," Liam said slowly. "She was screaming my name and I almost went inside. But she was screaming for me to run, not to get in."

Liam looked up at Lucas, his eyes welling with tears. "So I ran away, instead of helping her."

Lucas held him closer against his body. "You were very brave to run away from those bad men, Liam. Did you recognize them? Had you seen them before?"

Liam's brow furrowed. "I remember seeing the driver before. He has scars on his face and he was at the school yesterday, watching us play rugby."

"What about the car? Do you remember seeing anything else inside the car?"

"There was something on the floor," Liam said slowly, as he saw the images flitting in and out of his mind, replaying the moment where the man had nearly succeeded in getting him into the back seat of the car. "A list of sorts. Numbers. I saw it fall on the floor when he pushed Nadia aside." Liam glanced up at Lucas again. "Is Nadia going to be alright? She often babysits me."

"I hope so," Lucas replied. "Liam, I want you to remember what that piece of paper contained. Can you do that for me?"

Liam nodded and for a few moments, Lucas guided him through a fishing expedition. Remembering details was like fishing, he told the boy. Hook the fish and gently pull back on the rod, feel the fish fight you. But you reel it in slowly, taking your time, remembering the power of the fish as it fought you, pulled you forward, and then feeling it slowly tire out as you reel it in. Like memories, he told Liam. Reel them in, detail after detail.

Liam told him then that he saw numbers and letters that soon became a name. _Mekanik Rada_. A ship, Lucas thought. More likely, a cargo ship. The numbers Liam saw Lucas recognized immediately as the motorway that would take them to Purfleet, along with names of streets to get to the dock. They were heading to the terminal, Lucas realized, his grip on Liam tightening slightly as he held the boy who was now beginning to drift off to sleep again.

Lucas laid the boy down on the cot gently, pulling the covers over him. He wrote down the information he'd just gleaned from the boy, mulling over the details. It may have been eight years since Lucas had been back in London, but he still knew the roads like the back of his hand.

So Mikhael was heading to the terminal at Purfleet, where cargo ships often docked. _He was leaving the country with Alexa._

Something did not add up. If Mikhael had wanted to kill him and was using Alexa as bait to lure him, Mikhael would have called by now. Two hours since Alexa's abduction, there had been no word from anyone. Not a phone call, or a message of any kind. The airwaves were eerily quiet. Something wasn't right, Lucas thought. _He was never the target._

Lucas walked over to the desk where Harry had left a thick file for Lucas to peruse. This time it wasn't Alexa's file, or Arkady's. It was Mikhael Lubienko's file, forms in Russian print buried deep within the file while the top forms were mostly in English. Lucas flipped through the pile of papers.

He started from the bottom of the file, intending to work from Mikhael's past moving forward. According to the file, Mikhael's life didn't begin till fifteen years ago, when he'd arrived in Moscow. Prior to that, the only form to indicate that he did exist before arriving in Moscow had been a copy of a faded birth certificate from a remote town hours from the Russian capital.

It was as if Mikhael had been a ghost before then, Lucas thought. He read quickly through police reports detailing arrests and short term detentions before Mikhael's report seemed to have been wiped clean the moment he began to run the dance clubs. Someone had been protecting him then, Lucas realized.

Something fluttered to the ground, falling from the bottom of the file. It had been clipped to a crisp piece of paper tucked between the last sheet of paper and the back of the manila folder. Lucas picked it up.

It was a faded black and white photograph of a couple, smiling happily for the camera. A man who reminded Lucas of a young Robert Redford beamed proudly as he leaned over a young woman sitting on a bed holding a baby in her arms. They both looked so young, so innocent, Lucas thought, though his gaze returned immediately to the woman's face.

Though he knew instinctively that the man in the photograph had been a young Mikhael Lubienko, he couldn't help but stare at the woman's face. In her arms was a baby, swaddled tightly in white. Beneath the photograph, along the edge were the names _Mischa, Oksana and Nikolai _written in Russian.

Lucas turned the photograph over. On the back were the words, отдыхайте в мире, mое сердце и моя душа 1999. _Rest in peace, my heart and my soul 1999. _

Lucas stared at the woman's face. There was no mistaking her features, he thought. She could have been her sister. Or her twin.

Or Alexa George herself.


	14. Chapter 14

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Kudos and BBC. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended._

__**CHAPTER 14**

_"The devil is not as black as he is painted."_

Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy

Mikhael hadn't meant to hit her so hard. But the last thing he had expected was a crowbar swinging towards him the moment he opened the trunk. It hit him hard across the arm and cursing angrily, Mikhael punched Alexa in the face, a reaction that was primarily a reflex response more than anything else as pain exploded in his arm where the metal had hit him.

The punch landed across her jaw and Alexa fell back into the interior of the trunk, blood pouring from her mouth. She saw stars exploding before her eyes, and as she fought to maintain consciousness, everything turned black.

Mikhael sighed, hating himself for what he had just done. She'd been through enough for one morning, he thought. He saw the cuts along her wrists from the edge of the metal and glass that had covered the tail light. _Why do you have to make it so difficult for yourself, matryoshka?_

Mikhael had noticed the other car following him too closely while he had been on motorway, and knew immediately that something was amiss. Someone had spotted the car. Maybe it was already on the news, he thought. And so he had sped off the motorway, hoping to lose a car that was following him, its driver on the phone.

"They will be calling the police," Anatoly said. "You need to lose him."

With Anatoly consulting the road map, they had managed to lose their tail after turning onto one alley after another, and finally disappearing into an abandoned warehouse that Anatoly had directed Mikhael to drive into. "We wait till the idiot drives past," Anatoly said.

As they watched the car drive past, they waited for a few minutes till it was safe to venture out on the road again. The ferry terminal was close by and Mikhael knew that in no time, they'd be safe inside the bowels of the cargo ship that would take him and Alexa away from London.

Instead, Anatoly ordered him to drive the car into a warehouse just across from the terminal where the _Mekanik Rada_ was docked. It looked unused although there were a few opened cargo containers and boxes lying about. A portion of the roof had caved in and Mikhael could hear the sound of water dripping onto the ground below. Anatoly ordered Mikhael to stop the car.

"We part here, my friend," Anatoly suddenly said, opening the car door and dragging Nadia out of the back seat. He had gagged her mouth and secured her wrists with a plastic zip tie, and she yelped as he pulled her out of the car.

"Where are you going?" Mikhael asked.

"I will take care of Lucas North for you," Anatoly said.

Mikhael remained silent. He had never intended to kill Lucas but it was something he did not need to tell Anatoly. Anatoly was merely a hired assassin and someone that Arkady thought would be of help to Mikhael - why, even Mikhael didn't know, but he knew that Arkady didn't trust him anymore. Ever since that one night, he thought.

He'd been fortunate to have been given the opportunity to come to England through Arkady's connections. Even more fortunate to have been given Alexa as well. It was the only reason Mikhael had agreed to do the job. He and Alexa had some unfinished business to complete, whether she liked it or not.

"Since when did you decide that you'd take care of Lucas North for me?" Mikhael asked.

"Since Arkady hired me to kill him," Anatoly smiled. "He said that you would have your hands full with the woman and the child. Besides, I'm sure you and your woman have a lot of time to make up for, eh?" Anatoly winked. "And I put the clothes inside the cabin for you this morning, just as you requested."

"Thank you, friend," Mikhael said as Anatoly grasped his hand and shook it. The man's hand was ice cold, Mikhael thought. He glanced at Nadia, her wide eyes staring back at him wildly. She looked like a cornered animal.

"I promise you, I will take care of Lucas North for you," Anatoly said again. "This," he pulled Nadia's arm and she whimpered, "I will need as a distraction so the British idiot will leave you alone and stay away from the ship."

As Mikhael turned the car around and drove out of the warehouse and onto the ship ramp that had been kept down for him for an extra fee, he could see Anatoly through his side view mirror watching him. He realized then just how close the warehouse was to the ship, giving Anatoly a full view of the ship's deck if he needed it.

Mikhael looked at Alexa's limp form in the bottom of the car trunk. Dried blood had caked along her wrists and she looked like she'd just survived a few rounds in the ring with a hellcat, he thought. Mikhael hoisted her body and made his way to the stairs. He'd paid the captain extra to make sure that they would be left alone throughout the entire voyage, although he planned on disembarking with Alexa at the next terminal just before leaving England.

Once off the _Mekanik Rada_ and back on London soil and hopefully away from Arkady and his men, Mikhael hoped that his handlers would have received his message the night before and would be waiting for him and Alexa. And from there, he would be able to breathe a sigh of relief after more than fifteen years of holding his breath.

Gone would be the days when he'd been one of the most powerful men in Moscow, his club the meeting place of elite spies and diplomats wishing for a night of drink and debauchery as he milked them dry of their secrets. And after that, gone would be the days when he'd been reduced to nothing, a prisoner in one of Russia's notorious prisons - all for disobeying Arkady Kachikmov and paying the price for a lie.

Mikhael lay Alexa on the bed, watching her face as she breathed softly. _Because of you_, he thought, _my life changed forever_.

It had been a moment of weakness when Mikhael agreed to kidnap and hold Alexa captive nine years ago, not because he'd had no choice in the matter - because indeed he hadn't, but because he'd seen her face and knew that he had to have her. _One more glimpse_, he had told himself then. _One more chance to touch and make love to the woman she could never be._

And so he justified his actions then. It wasn't just any kidnapping, he had told himself. _He was saving her life._ Saving her from the hell waiting for the real victims of human trafficking, the drug addiction and the endless humiliation that awaited them day after day.

Despite everything he had worked hard to maintain, the image he'd cultivated since going native, Mikhael made Alexa his English princess, keeping her under his wing - though that alone didn't guarantee her safety from even his mood swings. Nor did it keep her away from Arkady's clutches, especially in the beginning when Arkady wanted the information he believed she had.

And when he found her fate in his hands, he'd taken a leap of faith, praying that no one would notice the lie he'd created to save her, that no one would know.

But Arkady did find out his lie eventually. And when Arkady did, Mikhael found himself stripped of everything he'd worked hard for, sent to prison for an undetermined amount of time or until Arkady felt he'd learned his lesson.

But Mikhael hadn't been given his lesson yet. Arkady waited till the time was right, spreading a lie throughout prison that he'd sold his only daughter over a card game and for that, he'd been branded a child lover. It didn't matter that Mikhael didn't have a daughter. It was theater, nothing else. It was Arkady showing his hand.

One afternoon, the guards held him down and tattooed him with the mark of a child lover on one cheek, and on the other, the name of the 'daughter' he'd sold. Alexa.

Arkady made sure that Mikhael would see his treachery again and again, a reminder that Arkady never forgot a lie. Nor did he forgive.

* * *

Malcolm was able to delay the ship's departure for half an hour, giving Lucas enough time to arrive at the ferry terminal. According to the ship's newly updated manifest, he was Eric Palmer, a last minute passenger who just paid a hefty sum to get on board.

Fortunately for Malcolm, the ship captain was more than eager to make the extra money to accommodate his new passenger. He'd already made a fortune taking on the scarred man and the woman, but a little extra never hurt. It was a long voyage back to Eastern Europe.

He'd even accepted an extra hundred pounds from a man named Anatoly, who had come on board with two trunks belonging to the scarred man. When they were casually opened, inspected with barely a glance at the women's clothing and garish lingerie that lay within, the captain had merely nodded and allowed him entry.

As Lucas gave his name to the man who was checking off his name in the manifest, his phone rang.

"Alexa's phone has just been turned on," Malcolm said. "It's in the general vicinity, but it's not on the ship."

"What do you mean?" Lucas asked, looking around him. The terminal was busy, with men walking about minding their own business, cargo containers in lines along the sides and behind them, warehouses.

"It's in the area, but not on the ship itself," Malcolm said.

Lucas turned to face the man as he brought the phone away from his ear and let his arm hang down his side. "Have my friends arrived yet?" He asked. "There should be two of them. The man has scars on his face -"

The man smiled, nodding. "Ah, yes, they just drove their car into the hold, sir, about fifteen minutes ago." he replied. "But you should be getting on. The ship sails in fifteen minutes."

"Are you sure about that? My two friends?" Lucas asked. "They're already on the ship?"

The man nodded. "Everyone's on board, sir, so you really should get on."

Lucas walked hurriedly up the gangplank though his eyes continued to search the terminal below. He noticed the rows of containers along one side and behind them, a row of warehouses. The one that faced the ship directly appeared unused, with a torn up roof and a door that was hanging open.

As he continued up the gangplank, something beyond the warehouse door caught Lucas' attention. Beyond the door was a woman sitting on a chair facing the ship, her head covered with a black hood. Lucas' eyes narrowed. Alexa...

But something in the way the woman carried herself and what she wore made Lucas stop. The woman was wearing stylish boots over a long skirt and just below the hood, he could make out the color of her hair. Black.

Alexa's hair was blonde.

Realizing that Malcolm was still on the line, Lucas said, "I think I've found Nadia Ravin. Malcolm, is there any way you can delay the ship any longer?"

"I'll try," Malcolm said. "Ros and Jo are on their way there."

Lucas ran down the gangplank, ignoring the man yelling for him to stop and to get back on the ship. They had been waiting for him long enough.

But Lucas didn't care. Alexa or not, he had to make sure that she was safe. As he made his way towards the warehouse, hearing the sound of a chair scraping against the floor and the muffled grunts of a woman as she was being hauled to her feet, Lucas reached into his shoulder holster for his gun.

The woman, he knew, was bait.

He heard the sound of another door creaking open. Lucas peered into the warehouse, seeing that the chair was now on its side, empty. Beyond the back door that was swinging by its hinges, he saw the man, running, pulling Nadia behind him.

Lucas ran after them, calling out for them to stop but the man merely turned to look at him, swinging a gun towards his direction. The shot rang out just as bullets splintered the wall next to Lucas and he ducked for cover.

He raised his gun, aiming at them but found it impossible to take a shot. A man was holding Nadia in front of him, his gun to her temple as he was backing up towards the far row of cargo containers. Lucas growled angrily, still moving towards them with his gun in front of him.

Suddenly the ship horn sounded and the man stopped, looking up at the ship behind them. Lucas saw a smile creep along the man's mouth as he watched Lucas, as if taunting him.

The ship horn sounded again and this time, Lucas could feel the mournful sound cut through his heart like a knife. The longer he stayed on the ground, the farther he'd be from Alexa.

Nadia was merely a diversion.

The man continued to walk backward, dragging Nadia with him and as they disappeared behind the row of cargo containers, Lucas made his decision. He pulled the trigger, shooting a few rounds towards the direction of Nadia and her captor and ran.

* * *

When Alexa regained consciousness, everything hurt. Even the hair on her head hurt. She wanted to open her eyes but could not find the strength to do so, the sensation of something heavy weighing heavily upon her eye lids. There was a pounding inside her head that seemed to go on and on, as if the the four walls of the room were vibrating, inching to close her in.

She felt as if she were in a vacuum, a world within another world. _I'm dreaming_, she thought, _and I can't get out of it_.

In the darkness of this dream, the smells around her were familiar. Soft earth upon her back, yet she was inside a room, not outside for the smell of trees or their leaves did not mingle with the ones she inhaled now. No, this was soft, musty earth, the one found in one of Mikhael's lesser known clubs in the outskirts of Moscow. And with it, came the smell of blood and death.

Alexa felt as if she were sifting through memories hidden long ago, like a lost girl walking through a mansion hallways peering through darkened rooms. This time, she'd never been here before - at least not since it had happened. Her mind had completely shut this one down, but as the smells continued assaulting her senses, a new sensation came strong and hard.

_I can't breathe!_

Suddenly Alexa was struggling to breathe, as if someone were pressing a hand around her neck, tightening his grip with every passing second. She gasped, fighting to pull the fingers from around her neck but it was futile. Her body that, just a few minutes earlier, felt pain in every pore, now began to feel numb as sensation began to fade away.

When she finally mustered the strength left within her to open her eyes, she found herself staring at a face she'd only seen once before. She struggled frantically now, a scream fading from her lips as the face of Arkady Kachimov appeared above her, his hands tightening around her neck, his eyes watching her intently, his expression one of excitement. He had always loved to see suffering.

Then he was gone. Someone had pulled him off her.

The pressure around her neck disappeared and little by little her senses returned, and with it the pain. She gasped. She felt the tears roll down her face as the realization hit her that she had been seconds away from dying. As the numbness began to wear off, she heard them, their voices becoming clearer as every second ticked by.

"She does not understand any Russian," Mikhael said, his voice pleading. "She heard nothing."

"I know she's your woman, Mik, your favorite," Arkady said. "She's mine, too. But I cannot take any chances. She knows too much already."

"I swear to you, Arkady, if she ever heard anything, I will take care of her myself." MIkhael's voice trembled, fear having crept along its edges. "She doesn't deserve this. You promised her father you would return her."

Arkady sighed and for a moment, Alexa thought that Arkady had somehow changed his mind. But then Alexa heard the click of a gun. "Promise or not, Mikhael, I cannot take that risk. By now she knows too much anyway. She's seen too much."

Mikhael said nothing. Then Alexa heard soft laughter. Arkady chuckled. "But I will let you do this for me, since she is your woman. Oksana, yes? Ее близнецы." _Her twin._

Silence.

"This is the nature of our business, Mikhael. Волко́в боя́ться - в лес не ходи́ть." _If you're afraid of the wolves, don't go into the woods. _"Do it now, Mikhael, or I will destroy more than just her. I will destroy you, too."

Footsteps approached her and Alexa felt her body begin to shake. A whimper escaped her lips. _How ironic_, she thought to herself. When Mikhael had first abducted her, all she wanted to do was die. She had tried to do it by overdosing with drugs, but he'd caught her just in time.

And here she was about to die though not by her hand this time. But all she wanted now was to live. Alexa turned her head away from their voices. As she opened her eyes, Alexa fought back a gasp as she found herself looking at a pair of dead eyes looking back at her. Red marks lined the girl's delicate neck.

It was Irena, one of the girls who had been with Alexa and two other girls the evening they entertained four men in Mikhael's private meeting room. It was Irena who had told Alexa that they had to escape after overhearing that they were to be killed the following night. Mikhael was on a business errand for Arkady and was nowhere near Moscow.

"What for?" Alexa asked, horrified. "Does Mikhael know?"

"It doesn't matter whether he knows or not. They said we heard things we weren't supposed to hear. That mousy man kept talking about it to you," Irena said accusingly. "You were the one he was talking to. If someone were to die, it should be you."

"But we didn't hear anything," Alexa protested. "_I_ didn't hear anything. He was drunk. He was talking nonsense."

"It doesn't matter now," Irena said. "They think we heard something and now we're supposed to be killed. The drunk's dead already. They killed him first."

Alexa remembered how the color had left her face, and Irena noticed it immediately. "That's what happens when you talk to the wrong people, Alexa. You die. And now Mikhael isn't around to help you."

_Dead eyes. _

Alexa wanted to run away but her body refused to move. She was frozen in her fear, held prisoner by unseen hands that kept her flat upon the floor. As she heard the footsteps draw closer, Alexa felt herself let go, feeling her muscles melt as she closed her eyes. It was futile, all of this, she thought. She barely knew who she was anymore, or why she was even here.

_Just let me die_, she wanted to shout at them. _Just do it now and let me escape this living hell hole, you sons of bitches._

It was all supposed to be a week-long vacation, she thought. Instead, she'd found herself with a one-way ticket to hell.

Mikhael had seen her at the outdoor market at Place du Marché-Saint-Honoré in Paris and from the moment he'd set eyes on her, he'd been hypnotized by her. She looked like someone he knew, he told her. Alexa could even be her twin, he joked and she had even laughed with him. He looked like Robert Redford, definitely older than her by almost ten years but when he smiled, the years faded away.

But all that changed the moment he kidnapped her and tossed her into the back of the van that would take her and two other girls all the way back to Russia. She had spent most of the journey drugged, her memories a jumble of faces and voices - and a name, spoken again and again. _Oksana._

She'd learned then that becoming Oksana saved her from the beatings, allowing her to live another day without bruises or missing teeth, or worse, be sent downstairs to service just any man who walked through the door of Mikhael's club. And so she played the part, and she played it well.

When she was drugged, he talked to her as if she were the woman he once loved, talking about the son they'd had - Nikolai. And when the drugs lessened, he continued to talk to her still, as if she were _that_ woman, that Oksana, till one day, when the drugs finally ceased, Alexa found herself wanting to be her. She realized that Oksana - her twin, as he often told her - he was tender. But most of all, she was safe. _She was_ _his Oksana._

And whenever Arkady came seeking Alexa for a night of punishment and humiliation, venting his anger whenever he felt like it, Alexa retreated into her own shell, seeing her body nothing more than a vehicle that felt pain, a shell that could handle the torture for even she knew that Mikhael could not save her. And whenever Arkady left, leaving her body a mess of bruises and burns, she always knew that Mikhael would take care of her. In time, she'd stopped caring who she was - Alexa, Oksana - it no longer mattered.

She would become whoever Mikhael wanted her to be if it meant that she'd be safe.

Arkady's voice broke through her reverie. The two men were right next to her now, talking as if she didn't exist.

"You know that there is no other choice, Mikhael," said Arkady. "I am a patient man, but even this is getting on my nerves. Get on with it before I change my mind and do it myself."

Mikhael knelt above her, lowering his face towards Alexa, his eyes filled with sadness at what he was about to do. In his other hand, he held the gun that Arkady had handed to him. She watched Mikhael draw closer and kiss her forehead. Alexa moaned.

"Не двигаться," he whispered. _Don't move._

"I do not have all night, Mikhael," Arkady growled.

"What am I doing this for, Arkady? At least tell me that," Mikhael said as he stroked Alexa's temple, moving a stray lock of hair away from her face. "Tell me what she heard that earned her this death sentence."

Her breath came in heaves now as the steady ticking of the clock somewhere in the room suddenly sounded so amplified in Alexa's ear.

"Nothing that should matter to you, Mikhael. Shoot her now or I will do it myself."

Mikhael's eyes held hers, as if probing the depths of her very being and Alexa found herself unable to move.

"Alexa, hе двигаться," Mikhael whispered again, his eyes holding hers intently. He tucked the stray lock of hair behind Alexa's ear. _Don't move._

Mikhael stood up and Alexa watched him, the tears streaming down from the corners of her eyes. So this was how it felt, she thought, moments before dying. _Don't move_, he said. She kept her eyes on his face till it was obscured by the barrel of the gun. Alexa's breaths came short and fast, keeping up with the frantic pounding of her heart as she realized what was about to happen. And still she kept her eyes on him.

As Mikhael pulled the trigger, Alexa closed her eyes, shutting herself from what was to come in that split second. She heard the blast and felt the explosion inside her head. The pain caused everything to turn blindingly white, snow white that Alexa almost forgot the pain that seared through her head.

So this was how it felt to die, she thought again as his words echoed inside her head.

_Don't move_.


	15. Chapter 15

_"Into the eternal darkness, into fire and into ice. "_

-Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy

"No!"

The ship's horn yanked Alexa from the darkness and she sat up, gasping for breath, her eyes wide. She brought her hand to her temples, feeling the skin for any pain but not finding any. Instead, she found a deep scar that ran along a straight line along the left side of her head, hidden by her thick hair. Tears had dampened her face and for a moment she thought she was bleeding.

Her wrists were bound in a pair of handcuffs, but she didn't care. Alexa only knew that she was alive. And that it had all been a dream, nothing but a dream of the past that she had forgotten.

Breathing heavily, she kept her fingers on the deep groove that ran all the way along the side of her head, the memory of that night slowly returning to her. She closed her eyes, her breath coming in heaves now as the images came like a flood into her brain.

Didn't Harry insist on her seeing a psychiatrist when she first returned to London? Didn't he say that it would help her remember and in remembering, she would understand and forget? But as Alexa touched the scar along the side of her head, knowing she'd touched that scar many times for years yet refused to understand or learn how she had gotten it, she knew that there had always been a reason why she refused any such help.

She had wanted all of that locked up, like a part of a house never meant to be opened up to anyone, not ever its owner. A chamber of secrets so dark, she knew that learning about them would only lead her to more pain.

But as she folded her knees in front of her, bowing her head, Alexa remembered it all now. The doors leading to the chamber of secrets so dark were never meant to be locked forever. It had waited for the right time.

_Don't move._

Alexa shut her eyes tightly, seeing the flash of light as the bullet left the barrel of gun and slammed onto the earthen floor next to her, the bullet grazing a deep groove on the side of her head, splitting skin. Blood seeped onto the floor beneath her head. It spread around her like a halo.

_Nine years ago, Mikhael had shot her._

And for nine years, she never once remembered the source of the deep groove along her scalp, the faint stitches of the fine needle that had seamed it shut. She remembered it all now, and as she did the world rushed towards her, swallowing her whole. Her skin grew clammy and cold, her eyes seeing nothing but darkness.

Alexa had been in some kind of coma for almost a week, unable to wake. She would remember nothing of that night, only that Mikhael had beaten her almost to death in his anger over running away, and nothing more. _How was he to know that he would be ordered to kill her shortly afterwards?_

It was probably for the best, Alexa thought now, as she struggled back to the present. She felt as if she were in deep water, where it was murkiest, and as she tried to swim upwards, the memories rushed at her, unrelenting. The visions slammed into her like a movie playing scenes again and again, some with sound, and some without.

The ones without the sounds gave her pictures, vivid and so real, the faces etching themselves in her mind. The ones with the voices assaulted her ears with words that made no sense to Alexa. They went on and on, words that conjured images of a knight chess piece again and again inside her head.

_"Mischa does things to you because he has to, child," the old woman who cared for her in a darkened room once told her. "У него нет выбора." He has no choice._

Alexa fought to get away from them all. There had been a reason why her mind had stifled such things. She could see the light above her and she swam towards it, knowing it would be her salvation.

When she broke free of the flashbacks, shutting the doors of her mind to the past that was left undiscovered, she let out a cry of agony, the sound of the bullet exiting the barrel of the gun a thunderclap that brought her back to the present. As she opened her eyes, the visions were gone.

Alexa looked up.

Mikhael was sitting in front of her, forearms on his knees, head bowed low. He was listening to her, yet he did not look up to face her. His massive arms were covered with tattoos and for a moment, Alexa could feel the sadness that seemed to emanate from his pores. There were so many things that needed to be said between them now.

Everything had just changed between them. And Alexa's mind began to fill up with questions. But as she opened her mouth to speak, only one word managed to emerge.

"Sugar Horse."

Mikhael finally looked up, his eyes sad. Where he had been tattooed with the mark of a pedophile by the prison guards and prisoners, he'd applied caustic acid on them to erase them, melting the skin almost to the bone. The acid had almost eaten through the joint of his jaw, and when he spoke, it often clicked in and out of place.

Where once he had been a handsome man, someone who had resembled Robert Redford and thus earned the nickname "Kid" for his resemblance to the Sundance Kid, now there sat before Alexa someone that looked like a man burned almost beyond recognition, his face a mass of melted skin.

But Alexa recognized his eyes still. In those eyes were hatred for the world around him that dared take away the one person he had loved the most, and the child he had helped bore into the world that he himself had created. In those eyes now was a sadness whose depths Alexa dared not seek.

"Do you remember now?" He asked softly. _Вы помните сейчас. _Mikhael said it in Russian and she understood him as clearly as if he spoke in plain English. Of course she knew Russian, Alexa thought. Her parents had taught her a long time ago.

But it was a language Mikhael had forbidden her to use when she was in Russia. _Let them believe you're just a stupid little rich girl. They will spill their secrets soon enough._

Alexa nodded though she said nothing, her eyes far away as she remembered a night a long time ago, when her life changed, never to be the same again. How she had come about those dreadful names, not knowing what they were for, but knowing even at eight years old, that they were names were killing for. Those names had claimed her mother.

"Sugar Horse is the reason why you were taken in Paris," Mikhael said. "And why you were held for so long, to get your father to find the names and surrender them in exchange for his daughter."

"And did he?"

"Only you know the answer to that, Alexa," Mikhael replied, as if realizing something for the first time as he paced across the room. he began lifting the mattress, peering beneath it and underneath the bed frame. He walked over to the lamp and looked up inside the shade, his face turning pale as he brought a finger to his lips.

"Who burned your face?" Alexa suddenly asked, ignoring Mikhael's signal to be quiet.

"I did," Mikhael replied. This time he walked over to a cheap transistor radio that had been left inside the room, probably by some crew member and turned it on. Pop music began to play, filling the quiet space between them as he sat down across from her. "After I got out, no one would help me. But it doesn't matter now."

"And Arkady, what has he got to do with all this? Is that why he's back?"

"Arkady likes to play games," Mikhael said, the expression on his face hardening. "He's a chess player and you are his queen. Your spy lover, Lucas North, is your king. But it seems that your king, this Lucas North, has abandoned you, yes?"

The mention of Lucas' name made Alexa's pulse quicken. She wondered if he even knew where she was. Had Lucas really abandoned her?

"What about you, Mischa? What are you in Arkady's game?"

Mikhael took a deep intake of breath as soon as she called him by the one name Oksana used to call him, the same name he would hear from Alexa's lips when she played the role years ago, to please him. Such was the treachery of women, he thought to himself. Alexa had played the game of pretending to be Oksana to save herself, making herself party to her own fate. But as he gazed at her, his breath caught in his throat.

Memories of his Oksana refused to die away, not now that he had found Alexa again, the perfect twin to his own Oksana. Oksana would have looked just like her still, he thought, but Mikhael forced himself to be alert. Oksana was of a different world, just as she now existed on a different realm, so far from where he was now. L_et her rest in peace_, he reminded himself. _Let her and Niko get the peace they deserve_.

The ship hadn't left port yet, the delays in its departure enough to warrant suspicion on his part. But for now, as long as the horn blasted once more, it meant that the ship was on its way.

"My role changes depending on what part of the game we're at, kitten," Mikhael replied. "In the beginning, I may have been nothing more than a simple pawn to Arkady, to be ordered here or there. But as the game progresses, my role changes. It becomes more important."

"How important?"

"I'm the only one that stands between you and Arkady. That means, I'm the only one that stands between you and death. You see, because of Sugar Horse, there's a price on your head."

Alexa frowned. "That's absurd," she said. "I can't be that important to Arkady. I know nothing."

Mikhael's lip curled. "Oh yes, you do. You see, Alexa, for a rich man's daughter, you're very smart. You knew then when to keep your mouth shut, when to see nothing, or hear nothing. You knew then what secrets men kept and what secrets they were willing to give up in a moment of weakness." Mikhael walked towards her and ran a finger down her cheek, tracing the outline of her neck, just where her neck joined her shoulder. "And yes, you knew just how to make a man give up his deepest, darkest secrets."

Alexa's face reddened. She looked away and Mikhael returned to his chair. His fingers tingled, the desire for her growing inside him. But first, they needed to talk. She needed to know just what she was, not the innocent girl she thought she was.

"I did not send you to entertain just any man who came into the club," Mikhael said. "They were all important people you entertained, and when they passed on the secrets to you, you passed on secrets to me, remember? It was our agreement. That's why you lived when the others didn't."

Alexa said nothing.

"You're not quite as innocent as you claim to be. Did your father know that, Alexa?" Mikhael continued. "Did he know that you passed on many of my government secrets to me? Ones that you obtained during your sessions with those men? It was my insurance in staying in business, even if the FSB was watching me carefully. That only means that you could have passed them on to your government, too. Or even to your spy lover."

He spat out the last words. How he hated Lucas North, Mikhael thought. _How could Alexa let him into her life now? Didn't she know the truth about him?_

"I only did as you told me," Alexa said. "You promised me freedom. What other choice did I have?"

"Plenty," Mikhael replied. "You had every reason to say no. What I don't understand is why you didn't tell your father, or anyone else about what you learned during your stay in Russia. Why you kept every secret you heard to yourself? And believe me, you heard plenty of them."

Alexa looked at him, frowning. She was silent, not sure what to say. Mikhael, she knew, was not lying. He did send her to entertain them, men who fancied themselves spies for the FSB, who did nothing on the field but worked behind computers and equipment all day, yet learning so many secrets. And when they arrived in Mikhael's clubs, they had wanted nothing more than to impress the girls, make them believe they were who they weren't, and during the process, divulge highly secret information to girls like Alexa who fed them with compliments, alcohol and drugs.

Yet there were those who worked in the field, who were powerful men, capable of killing her in an instant. Alexa had discovered that she had a skill in detecting just who they were, her senses sharper when she was around them, teaching her when to remain deaf and dumb, and when to rely on her instincts and step away.

Yes, Mikhael was right. She had learned her lessons well, though they were not gleaned from him at all. But the simple answer to his question was that she had completely blocked everything she had heard in those sessions, the secrets men and women told her, the things she had seen. She had simply locked them all away, never to be seen again. She had done it just as she had forced herself to believe that Lucas, during his imprisonment in Russia, was dead. She had never wanted to return to that place again.

"And now you sleep with Lucas North," Mikhael almost spat out the words. "Do you know he's a double agent? Do you know that's why Arkady let him go? So he can spy on Mi5, on you and maybe, even get the names from you."

"No," Alexa shook her head, disbelieving. "Not Lucas."

Mikhael's lips curled into a smirk. "I saw him with Arkady just yesterday, entering the embassy. They were together, you see. Do you want to see the photographs?"

He pulled out a manila envelope from beneath the mattress and pulled out photographs for Alexa to see. They spilled out on the bed before her and as Alexa stared, she shook her head again. "That's impossible."

But the pictures did not lie. There was Lucas on a rooftop overlooking the city talking to Arkady, his tall lean frame unmistakable. Another photograph showed Lucas with Arkady entering the embassy, the photograph gleaned from cameras all over the building, all angles showing that it was indeed Lucas with Arkady.

Yet there was another one and this one sent a chill through Alexa's heart. It was Lucas sitting on a bench at Highgate cemetery talking to a woman with dark hair.

"His handler is his ex-wife, did you know that?" Mikhael was saying. "He has already passed on some sensitive information to her, to Arkady. Is he really as trustworthy as you thought he was?"

Alexa picked up the last photograph with shaking fingers. The pictures did not lie, she thought. Why didn't Harry say anything to her? Most of all, why did Lucas lie to her?

"Don't you think he would have been here by now? Your lover?" Mikhael was pacing again. "Do you know he saw his ex-wife last night? Before he went to you? Did you let him make love to you, kitten? Did you tell him your secrets?"

"You're lying, Mikhael," Alexa whispered. Lucas, a double agent - it was impossible. "Lucas would never do that."

Yet as Alexa spoke, her words were hollow, spoken automatically by someone who wanted desperately to believe that everything was perfect. But as Alexa looked at the photograph of Lucas with his ex-wife, she knew she was only fooling herself. Worse of all, Lucas was making a fool of her.

"How well do you really know him, Alexa?" Mikhael asked. "He comes to you only for one thing, yes? Maybe he wants to learn what you know, and then give it to Arkady."

Alexa said nothing. Her face hardened as she forced herself to look away from Mikhael's penetrating gaze. Suddenly she wasn't sure of anything anymore. What Mikhael said about Lucas shook her and she wrapped her arms around her, suddenly chilled.

"I'm the only who stands between you and death, Alexa," Mikhael said. "I'm a businessman, remember that. I take no sides but my own and what and who matter the most to me."

"You've got a strange way of showing it, Mikhael," Alexa said, touching her jaw, the pain still radiating from where he had struck her earlier.

"That was an unfortunate consequence of hitting me with the crowbar," Mikhael said, glancing outside the window behind Alexa. He saw a black car drive up and two women emerged, flashing their badges at the men who had run after the car to stop it from continuing further into the terminal. Mikhael watched as the women headed towards the warehouse, relieved that they weren't coming towards the ship.

Maybe Anatoly was drawing them away from the ship, he thought.

"What about my son?" Alexa asked.

"He should be safe - safer than if he were here with us now," Mikhael replied. "But I won't lie to you when I say that I don't know where he is right now."

He walked over to one of the chests and flipped open the lid. It was filled with clothing, folded neatly one on top of another. He rummaged through them, wondering what had happened to all the sensible clothing he had purchased just the day before - the coats and the sweat shirts and pants - clothing that would have made Alexa inconspicuous among the crew. The last thing he had wanted was for her to look like a cheap prostitute throughout this entire voyage.

Instead, what his hands touched now where cheap women's clothing, lingerie that were crass and flimsy. Mikhael dug deeper into the trunk, freezing as his hand touched something cold and hard. Tossing all the clothes out of the trunk, he drew a long breath as he stared at what lay halfway from the bottom of the trunk.

This had to be all Anatoly's doing, Mikhael thought, on orders from Arkady. Mikhael felt the sweat gather upon his brow as the realization hit him. It wasn't just Alexa who had a price on her head.

"Alexa," he commanded, his voice hoarse. "Open the other trunk and carefully look inside."

Alexa did as she was told. As she did so she swallowed hard, finding that her throat was dry at what lay in front of her.

Each chest was filled with explosives, gallon-sized containers lined in rows, filled with fluid and connected to each other by various colored wires. Bags of steel nails were tied at the mouths of each container and sitting right on top of it, was a computerized panel, the numbers ticking backwards from 04:17.

They both stared at the panels before them. The digital clock face was counting down. And as Alexa stared, her mouth turned dry at the sight of the numbers counting down before her, her brain refused to register what it was seeing.

"Someone wants you dead, Alexa," Mikhael whispered, and his voice shook. His eyes never left the bomb in front of him as he slowly got to his feet, walking towards her and pulling her up as well, Alexa's own legs refusing to do as her mind told them to. "Maybe it's Sugar Horse, or maybe it's that information you extracted from that last contact I sent you to see, the one that Arkady wanted me to kill you for. I don't know anymore."

Words suddenly appeared before Alexa's eyes, as if they were scrabble tiles assembling themselves on its own accord. _Tiresias._

"Tiresias," she whispered, sweat gathering upon her brow. Her mind flashed with images, like flashbulbs going off inside her head, snapshots of a thumb drive in the palm of her hand, whittled pieces of wood as a matryoshka Russian doll snapped between her fingers only to be glued together again, a treasure deep within its bowels. _Tiresias._

_03:45_

"It doesn't matter now what you know or don't know," Mikhael said "We're both dead."

Mikhael took a key from his pocket and unlocked Alexa's one of the cuffs from Alexa's wrist. She looked up at him expectantly as she brought her other wrist towards him. He was setting her free, she thought. But Mikhael only held her eyes with his own as he slapped the cuff around his own wrist and clicked it shut.

"Maybe this will jog your memory, Alexa," he said. "Sugar Horse or Tiresias. One or the other. Or both. You have to remember them now."

Alexa screamed at him, her free hand pounding against his chest as she fought to get away from him, but Mikhael grabbed her hand in his.

"I've let you go for nine years, kitten," he said. "Not again. This time you will remember and I will not wait another nine years for you to do so."

"Mikhael, you bastard," Alexa whispered, loosening her hand from his and as she did so, she slapped him across the face.

"Either we make it out of this alive, together," Mikhael said as he got to his feet and pulled her up with him. "Or we die together."


	16. Chapter 16

_"All things truly wicked start from an innocence."_

Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast

The metal handcuff cut deep into the skin of her wrist and Alexa screamed as Mikhael pulled her behind him as they ran out of the cabin. The corridor was narrow, accommodating only Mikhael's bulky form but as they moved as quickly as they could along the corridor, Mikhael suddenly cursed.

_His name had been Oskar. A mousy man who sprayed every time he spoke, his thick lips wet with his saliva especially when he was excited and whenever he was around Alexa, he was, his eyes darting up and down as he watched her move. _

_He worked behind the desk at one of the offices within FSB, Alexa couldn't remember now for whom, but it did not matter. Tonight, he had something special for her._

Mikahel pulled Alexa in front of him, and she found herself staring at Lucas, who stood by the door that led to the stairs outside. Lucas held a gun in front of him and when he saw her, Alexa saw his eyes soften before darkening at the sight of Mikhael behind her, his massive forearm across her neck.

"Get out of the way, North," Mikhael shouted, pointing his gun towards Lucas.

"Let her go," Lucas said, his gun trained at the burly man's head. His deep voice boomed across the narrow hallway and Alexa realized that he was speaking in Russian to Mikhael. Suddenly, Lucas' eyes flickered towards Alexa, seeing the bruise across her jaw and the cuts that still bled along her wrist. "She needs medical attention. She's hurt."

"We all won't be needing any attention if you don't get out of the way, North," Mikhael said. "We'll be dead. There's a bomb on the ship and we're running out of time."

"You lie," Lucas said, taking another step forward but Mikhael remained where he stood. Alexa could feel Mikhael's heart beating fast behind her, knowing that if Lucas refused to budge, they would all be dead in a matter of minutes.

_"I have something special for you, princess," he said in deeply accented English. "You keep it safe for me, hmm?" Oskar ran his finger along Alexa's arm, and she closed her eyes, suppressing a shudder. She loathed the man, but she she had a job to do. Mikhael had finally promised her freedom. One more job, and then he'd bring her to the English embassy personally._

_"What is it?"_

_"Russia's best kept secret," Oskar whispered in her ear, his breath smelling of vodka, his voice beginning to slur as the alcohol began to take control of him._

_"Hand it over to me then," Alexa said. "Before you pass out and forget what you just told me."_

_She had to wrestle it from him, avoiding his lips that brushed against her face, the saliva that coated his lips landing on her shoulder where he kissed her as she enclosed her palm over a small plastic case. _

"He's telling the truth, Lucas," Alexa said, wincing as Mikhael tightened his hold around her neck. "Please, we need to get out of here now."

Lucas stared at her, seeing the panicked look in her eyes and he stepped backwards, onto the balcony, as Mikhael made his way forward. Alexa could smell the fear in the air now, knowing that time was running out fast.

Lucas backed up and descended down the steps but waited for them, his gun still trained on Mikhael as they ran down the steps. Just then, the cargo ship rocked and shuddered, the sound of tearing metal and the smell of sulfur filling the air. Alexa and Mikhael were thrown violently forward, and as debris rained on them, Mikhael dragged Alexa behind a row of cargo containers and covered her body with his.

_When Oskar finally passed out from too much drink, snoring loudly as he lay on the couch, Alexa excused herself in the bathroom and opened her palm. The tiny thumb drive was enclosed in a plastic case. She could hear the three men grunting loudly as they found themselves serviced by their women as they lay sprawled on the other couches throughout the private room. _

_Alexa tore open a condom and slipped the plastic case inside. With Mikhael out of town, Alexa couldn't risk being caught with such a treasure in plain sight, though she had no idea what it was. Oskar had only whispered a strange name to her just as he fell asleep, snoring loudly as he did so. Alexa secured the condom with a tight knot. _

_There were always places where one could hide things. Mikhael had taught her all of them._

For a few moments, Alexa could hear nothing even as Mikhael was yelling in her ear. The blast had been so loud that she felt she were in some sort of vacuum and all she could hear were muffled voices talking to her. She stared at him, realizing that he was speaking in Russian to her.

"They bugged the cabin, Alexa. You were right to say you didn't know anything," Mikhael was saying. "But the time for pretending is over. They know you have that thumb drive. Oskar told them he handed it to you before they killed him, the bastard."

_"Tiresias," Oskar whispered in her ear as he slipped something onto her hand. "Oskar the Ferret finally made good. This will save England and no one will call me the 'Ferret' again."_

_They still will call you that unless you stop blabbering, you drunken idiot, Alexa had wanted to tell him. Shut up or you'll get us both killed._

She stared at Mikhael, the memories finally rushing past her, almost drowning her with the ferocity with which they appeared - sudden, overwhelming, and utterly vicious. Behind him, the bridge where they had just been, was on fire, smoke billowing from the windows, flames licking the upper floor.

Mikhael began unlocking the cuff that bound her to him. "Bring the drive to someone you trust completely, someone at MI5 or MI6, but not Lucas North. Remember he is a traitor."

Suddenly in the midst of the smoke, someone began shooting at them. Though they had sought cover behind a row of containers that faced the dock, they found themselves in the firing line of someone else from the dock in front of them. The first hail of bullets missed Alexa and Mikhael by mere inches, piercing the metal cargo container next to them. Mikhael pulled her away, towards the way they had come initially, where the heat from the flames was intense. But they had no choice.

As Mikhael pulled her on the opposite side of the containers, he gasped, grasping his side as another round of bullets pierced the floor around them. He stumbled, falling to the ground, just as Alexa made it behind the other side of the container tier.

She turned, seeing Mikhael laying on the ground a few feet away from her as the shooter, wherever he was, began firing a few more rounds at them, this time hitting Mikhael again. Alexa stared at Mikhael, seeing the pain contort his face. _I can't leave him out there to die_, she thought just as another round of bullets rained on them. Suddenly, she ran out to get him just as Lucas, a few feet away, shouted her name.

Lucas began shooting towards the direction of the dock, buying Alexa time as she tried to pull Mikhael to safety but it was useless. The man was just too heavy for her, and as Lucas fired a few more rounds, he ran towards her and helped pull Mikhael behind the containers.

"What were you thinking?" He shouted at her but Alexa wasn't listening. Mikhael had been shot once in the torso, and another bullet had pierced his thigh. Mikhael had been one of her torturers in Russia, but he'd also been one of her protectors, no matter how twisted the thought was. He had taught her how to survive hell.

Even after she had returned to England, safe from the monsters who had made her life a living hell for six months, she had refused any therapy to help her get through her nightmares of Mikhael and the men he served, the ones who proved to be more dangerous than Mikhael could ever be. And when it had truly mattered, he had also saved her life. And she knew then, that his cruelty, his torture, had all been part of his own act to survive.

_Don't move._

This time, she said it to him as she pushed Mikhael's hand against his side to stem the bleeding. Beside her Lucas dialed for help, hearing Malcolm's voice demanding to know if he was alright as his call for 999 was intercepted. All around them, chaos reigned and men were running about the ship, trying to save people who had been on the bridge when the bomb exploded.

"Remember what I said, matryoshka," Mikhael rasped as he pushed Alexa's hand aside when she was trying to check on the wound on his thigh. "The time for pretense is over. They are coming for you."

"Mischa -" Alexa began but Mikhael suddenly grabbed Alexa by the neck, pulling her down so her face was just inches from his. Blood stained her neck, dripping onto her chest.

"Because they wished to see too far before them. Backward they look, and backward make their way," he whispered. He let her go and Alexa stared at him, her gaze wide. _She knew those words. He'd told her what they meant a long time ago, and what it meant when she'd hear it again - but only from him._ "Yes, Alexa, you know what I mean. It's time. Do you have it?"

Alexa nodded.

"What is he saying, Alexa?" Lucas suddenly demanded and Alexa turned to stare at him, as if a spell had been broken. She was looking at him as if for the first time, noticing him just then. Lucas watched as Alexa's green eyes turned dark, a look of accusation on her face.

"You!" Her eyes blazed. "You work for Arkady, Lucas. Why the hell am I telling you anything? You're a traitor."

Lucas shook his head, surprised to hear the change in her voice, aware that she gazed at him with a hatred he'd never seen before. He wanted to tell her that there were things she didn't understand but before he could start, Alexa grabbed Mikhael's gun and pointed it at Lucas.

"Alexa, it's not what you think," Lucas began.

Suddenly she turned around and ran out into the open, making her way to the gangplank. Lucas leaped over Mikhael but the man grabbed his leg and Lucas yelled in pain as he slammed against the hard ground, dropping his gun. Lucas kicked Mikhael, forcing the man to let go of his leg as hail of bullets scattered again around them.

"Leave her alone," Mikhael was yelling at Lucas and Lucas stared at him. The Russian was speaking perfect English, he thought. And before that, when Mikhael was saying the phrase to Alexa, it had been in Russian, to which Alexa had responded in perfect Russian as well. _What the hell, _Lucas thought. _What the hell is going on?_

Alexa ran down the gangplank, past men who were either running down along with her, or making their way up to the cargo ship to help. She barely saw them. She only needed to get away. And as the bullets followed her down the gang plank, she dodged and scampered, using men's bodies as shields and nothing more. When she finally made it down onto the ground, she heard three rounds go off, though no bullets were directed towards her or hit the dock around her.

Then there was silence. No gunshots, no bullets bouncing off the pavement around her. Alexa turned to look towards the row of cargo containers, her eyes spotting Ros' tall form standing atop one of them, her gun still aimed at someone lying at her feet. Ros kicked something away from her and raised her head towards Alexa.

Their eyes met for a brief second but this time, Ros frowned. Alexa looked different now, her bearing straighter, more confident. Ros watched as Alexa turned away from her, scanning the terminal in front of her, her gaze directed towards the parking lot beyond Ros' line of sight.

Ros dialed Lucas' number just as she nudged Anatoly's dead body with her boot. "What's happening, Lucas?"

Ros saw Lucas sprinting down the gangplank just as Alexa disappeared, heading towards the parking lot.

"She's running, Ros," Lucas said. "Something happened up there and she snapped. I'm going after her."

"Stay on comms, Lucas," Ros said just as Lucas hung up. In the distance, Ros heard the sound of sirens approaching.

* * *

Though the fire on the ship seemed to be under control, people were either of two camps on the dock. The first camp belonged to the rescuers, while the second camp were for those who knew that work had to go on. As long as it wasn't their ship that was on fire, they had work to do, and they went ahead and did it. Alexa found what she wanted towards the farthest end of the parking lot behind a row of warehouses on the far end of the dock.

The man stepping out of a ten-year old pick up truck was tall and lanky, wearing a gray uniform that said 'Larry' with the word 'Mechanic' stitched beneath it on the left front pocket. Alexa approached him, tucking Mikhael's gun behind her. He turned to look at her, his eyes widening at the sight of her bruised face, bloodied hands and bare feet.

_She looks like she's ten years old, _he thought.

"Will you help me?" She asked, pointing towards Lucas who was running towards her. Her voice was soft, almost child like. "I need to get away from him. I need to get away from him."

The man's eyes narrowed and his mouth turned into a thin line. "Did he do that to you?"

Alexa nodded as her eyes darted towards the interior of the truck cab. She was relieved to discover that the man had left the keys to his pick-up truck still in the ignition and seeing her in her current state had distracted him. Larry, or whoever he was, walked to the back of his truck and retrieved a tire iron.

"Would you want me to take care of him, miss?"

Alexa nodded, "Please. I don't want him to hurt me anymore."

The lie spilled from her lips like wine as Alexa stepped aside, towards the open door of the truck. She watched the man turn his back away from her, waiting for Lucas.

As soon as he stepped within five meters from his truck, Alexa rushed to the cab and shut the door. She turned the ignition and peeled out of the parking lot, seeing Lucas running towards her from the rear view mirror and Larry stopping him with the tire iron.

Alexa exited the dock just as police cars and another ambulance arrived. As she made her way towards the motorway that would take her back to London, she rummaged through the pile of papers and crumpled fast food wrappers on the passenger seat. When her search yielded nothing but trash, she pulled open the glove compartment, smiling when she saw what she needed.

Though it was an old flip phone, Alexa found that it worked. She punched a few numbers on the keypad and waited for Harry to answer.

"Where's Liam? Is he safe?" She demanded before Harry could say anything.

"Alexa," Harry exclaimed, relief evident in his voice. "Where are you? Liam is right here with me at the Grid. Where are you?"

Lucas hadn't called him yet, she thought. _Probably still busy with Larry, the mechanic._

"Is Lucas with you?" Harry asked.

"He's a double agent, Harry," Alexa said angrily. "Everything he's done with me since he arrived - it was all arranged, wasn't it? Arkady arranged it."

"What are you talking about, Alexa?" Harry asked. "Lucas is not a double agent. Whatever you believe about Lucas, you're wrong. It's not what you think."

"Then tell me what to think, Harry. It's what you do best, isn't it?" Alexa paused as she maneuvered the truck through some mild traffic, realizing that the crawl back to London had begun. "I just saw the photographs of him and Arkady together."

"It's not what you think, Alexa," Harry said. "It was all an act to get Arkady to come to us. Whatever you saw, whatever it was, it's not what you think. Believe me, Alexa." Harry paused, and Alexa could hear something unspoken in the silence. Harry was walking as he spoke, probably finding somewhere private.

"Arkady is dead, Alexa," Harry said in a whisper. "Did you hear me? He's dead."

Alexa hung up the phone. She tossed the phone to the passenger seat and gripped the steering wheel tightly, Harry's words echoing inside her head. She wanted to believe Harry so badly, she thought. But she'd learned that nothing was ever what they seemed anymore. Nothing.

She needed to go somewhere safe, where she could collect her thoughts. She was exhausted and hungry. She hadn't had a bite to eat since that morning, not even a sip of coffee or water.

Alexa tried to focus on the road ahead of her, the late afternoon traffic building as red tail lights filled her vision. She knew she'd be stuck on the motorway if she didn't get out of it now, giving Lucas enough time to catch up with her, if he ever got out of his situation with Larry.

She got off the motorway and began taking the side streets. Liam was safe, she thought, a wave of relief washing over her. But for now, she needed time alone. The words Mikhael spoke to her returned, echoing inside her head and she realized that she'd almost forgotten them. She'd almost fooled herself into thinking that she would never hear them again.

_Because they wished to see too far before them,  
Backward they look, and backward make their way._

Alexa knew what he meant. She'd always known. And as she concentrated on the road before her, the streets moving past her in a blur, Alexa knew what she had to do. The pieces were finally falling into place.

Her time being asleep was over.


	17. Chapter 17

_"I'm afraid I can't explain myself, sir. Because I am not myself, you see?" _

Lewis Caroll

She could not go home. Not anymore.

Alexa parked the truck in a busy intersection, tossing Larry's keys on the seat and slipping an old checkered shirt over her bloodied tank top. The temperatures had dropped and she shivered, her bare feet barely visible beneath the hem of her jeans. Larry's shirt smelled of Marlboros but she didn't mind. She'd found an opened pack of his choice of cigarettes in the glove compartment and snagged it, slipping it into the pocket of his shirt.

Alexa looked around her, her eyes trying to spot Lucas or anyone from the Grid in the crowd, but she did not see him. She slipped through the growing crowd of pedestrians, keeping her head low. She had a few blocks to walk but she didn't mind. She couldn't risk parking the truck too close to where she needed to go now, the one place that she could call her own.

Ever since she'd returned from Russia, everyone treated her like a porcelain doll that had fallen one too many times. Everyone thought she was too fragile, afraid that one more slip and she'd descend into some kind of madness.

Even her father had decided it best that in the event of his death, to turn all Alexa's affairs over to a living trust attorney, till she turned 35. Most of his assets were also passed on to Liam, bypassing Alexa and entrusting her primarily with an allowance that was quite generous to begin with. But it made her feel invisible, as if Nathaniel did not want a trace of her anywhere, at least on paper.

But Alexa knew that to some, it was a privileged life to live, with no need for a job to pay her bills or her rent. Everything she spent was accounted for, though often questioned. At twenty-eight, she was old enough to manage her finances, but her father's arrangements prevented that. She was forever a child in his eyes, even in death. A ghost.

When Alexa formed Found Hope a year earlier, she'd set aside her own salary for later use - not that she had needed a salary to begin with. And when she stepped down months earlier, passing on the bulk of the foundation to the management of a Board of Directors, they'd given her an early retirement package of sorts. Along with the salary, it was enough to live on modestly for a many years.

It was also enough to buy a place she could call her own. But Alexa could not and would not use her own name to purchase anything bigger than a car, much less a flat. She knew that Harry would have had her followed like he usually did to her new home, and probably even ask why she wanted to purchase anything like it if she already had a place of her own with Trevor Square, and her father's rental properties as well.

And the last thing Alexa wanted was to lose the only remnant of independence she had left, something that no one at MI5 knew about. She did not want to lose the home she'd secretly called her own for the last month, since she closed escrow on it and had it decorated.

To her neighbors, she was a wife whose husband was constantly out of the country, whose name was marked outside on the tenant directory board. It was a name she had acquired through weeks of hard work, aided by a resourceful private investigator who, as a result of his inquiries, had lost his license and was forced to leave the country. But Alexa had compensated him well for his work and the last she heard from him, he'd settled comfortably in Los Angeles.

Alexa stopped to look over her shoulder. She was only two blocks away from the "Brownstone," as she called her flat, not finding any other word to describe it other than how it looked like from the front, its brick facade brown with age, yet fitting appropriately within the neighboring buildings that flanked it in Spitalfields. She ran past the outdoor market, now closed for the day as the night was quickly descending, the cold wrapping around her exposed neck.

She scanned the faces around her and found no one suspicious, their attention on other things in their lives - carrying groceries for the evening's supper or rushing home from work, oblivious of anything else but what was going on in the mundane lives they led. Alexa ducked behind an alley between the bagel shop and a used bookstore, her bare feet stepping onto a puddle of muddy water and she cursed beneath her breath.

Alexa's thoughts returned to Harry, knowing that her godfather meant well by having men follow her now and then. She often wondered what prompted the surveillance, but she'd long given up wondering. Alexa knew that Harry didn't trust her, thinking that she was still a child, just as her father had always thought.

But as Alexa made her way behind the buildings, still looking over her shoulder as she skirted along the narrow alleys, she knew that though Harry may not trust her, he was someone she needed to trust, especially now. She wanted nothing more than to go straight away to Thames House and tell Harry everything she knew, but she still had one more thing to do.

She still had to retrieve the one thing that Arkady wanted her dead for. She did not need any further proof beyond the bombs inside the cargo ship cabin and the shooter on the dock.

Mikhael was right about two things.

The pretense was over. And too many people wanted her dead.

* * *

Lucas was fortunate that Larry was a reasonable man. The man was about to attack Lucas with a tire iron, and had been close to being shot at by Lucas as he tried to protect himself. Instead, Lucas flashed Larry his identification and the man threw the tire iron down on the ground immediately, turning around to see Alexa drive off with his pick up truck.

Lucas turned back and ran towards the black car that Ros and Jo had driven into the dock with. Jo was with a young woman sitting at the back of an ambulance and Lucas recognized her as the woman who had been tied to the chair inside the warehouse. Nadia Ravin, the woman who had been with Liam that morning.

"I'm going after Alexa," Lucas said and Jo tossed him the keys to the car just as Ros hurried towards him.

"Lucas, stay on comms," Ros said again, but Lucas didn't hear her. He started the engine and sped away, leaving Ros and Jo shaking their heads after him.

"It'll take some getting used to," Jo said. "Staying on comms after being on his own for so long."

Although Alexa had a few minutes head start before Lucas, it wasn't difficult to track down the pick up truck driving on the M25 as soon as Lucas informed the Grid what had happened.

"She just called me," Harry had said, a sense of growing panic in his voice. "Lucas, what the hell happened? Where is Alexa?"

"She ran. Something Mikhael said set her off," Lucas said. "Harry, I need you to check into this saying, 'because they wished to see too far before them, backward they look, and backward make their way.'"

"What the hell is that?" Harry asked.

"I don't know, but whatever it is, it set Alexa off," Lucas lowered his voice as he started the engine. "I also need Malcolm to track a pick up truck for me."

"She stole a truck?" Harry asked, his voice incredulous.

"Yes, Harry, she stole a truck, and she managed to convince a man in five seconds that I was up to no good and if he weren't reasonable, he nearly would have killed me," Lucas replied as he sped out of the dock. Or get shot, Lucas wanted to add. "There's more to your little princess than you thought."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Harry, she's a sleeper. She's got to be."

Harry was silent for a few seconds, his thoughts racing over what Lucas had just said. "Are you sure?"

"I'm pretty sure she is, Harry. But she's also in trouble. Someone wants her dead. First the bomb, then the shooter on the dock. It was never me, Harry. I was never the target."

"Then be careful, Lucas," Harry said. "Call me as soon as you find her."

Malcolm managed to spot the truck on the M25 through the traffic cameras just before Alexa exited the highway, allowing Lucas enough time to catch up with her. He followed her all the way back to London, where she parked the truck in a busy shopping area, emerging from the cab wearing an oversized man's work coat.

Lucas followed her for almost half a mile, through retail sections and residential streets, before seeing her disappear in an alley behind the six-story building. If she had wanted to make sure that no one would be able to find her, she was doing a good job of it. For a moment, Lucas thought he had lost her but the blood against the door frame told him that he hadn't.

He took a few steps back to look up at the building she just entered. Though outside it bore a brownstone-like facade, the interior was thoroughly modern. He tried the door that Alexa had just gone through but it was locked. Lucas went around to the front of the building and looked at the directory by the side of the glass doors.

He had to find a way to get in, he thought, as he scanned the names in front of him.

The building housed over twenty five units. Lucas searched for Alexa's name but no George was listed, or anything close to it. He began searching from the top of the directory, trying to see if he'd find something that looked familiar.

"Visiting someone?" A elderly woman with a toy poodle asked him as she searched through her pockets for her key.

Lucas shook his head. "Actually I was just parking the car and I've just locked myself out."

The woman laughed. "Oh, don't worry. Parking is terrible here," she unlocked the door and Lucas held it open for her till she pulled her poodle inside. "Just come on in and don't lock yourself out again," she said as she walked towards the elevators while Lucas meandered in the lobby, pretending to check the mailboxes.

As the elevator doors shut behind her, Lucas walked towards the larger tenant directory just opposite the elevator. He ran through the names, starting from the top. He'd scanned all the way to the last name when his eyes returned to the top again, to a name that looked familiar.

Lucas swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He stared at the name and the number next to it. It was probably just a coincidence, he thought. But as he stared at the name next to the unit number 1312, something told Lucas that he'd find Alexa there.

_Dimitri Ilyakov - 1312_. It was the name he'd used in Russia when he found her nine years ago.

* * *

The feel of the water pounding against her skin was heaven. The smell of sea, metal and smoke had surrounded her for the last two hours and Alexa wanted nothing more than to wash all its traces off her skin and hair. She had tried to eat at first but her body rebelled, not yet ready to allow herself to take in any nourishment, no matter how hungry she felt.

It was the adrenaline, she thought. Her body and mind were still primed on running away from danger.

So she showered, allowing the warm water to cleanse her. The memories of the day returned as she stood beneath the water spray and Alexa felt her heart begin to race as the fear returned along with the memories. She saw Mikhael bursting through the door of her Trevor Square flat, the rage that she saw in his eyes chilling her.

Something had set him off, she thought and as she she closed her eyes, leaning her hands against the shower wall, she realized then what it was. He'd seen Lucas leave her flat. Of course he would be in a rage, she thought. Lucas was a traitor.

She'd seen it with her own eyes. The photographs of Lucas and Arkady together just the day before, walking like old friends into the Russian embassy. Some of the photographs had been taken with a long-range lens, as well as a few others from the embassy camera, taken at short range. They had been together, walking and talking.

Even Alexa couldn't believe it. How could she have been so blind? An operative for MI5 openly walking into the Russian embassy next to someone who was Harry Pearce's equal in the FSB wasn't merely saying hello to an old friend. He was reporting to a boss.

What reason would Lucas have to be in the same room with Arkady now that he was back in English soil, away from the man who'd made his life hell in Russia? The last thing Alexa would ever want in the world was to be in the same room with Arkady himself, even though Arkady had found ways to let his presence be known to her, to let her know that he knew the game she was playing.

Alexa closed her eyes.

Arkady.

She had tried so hard to forget him, even when he dared come into her office a few months earlier, pretending to be a donor. Even when he approached her at the foundation gala, Alexa's pretense had almost crumbled for she knew then that he knew.

Alexa felt herself stiffen at the thought of the older man, with his smiling eyes and friendly smile. Yet beneath the sweet facade lay a deadly man, one enjoyed watching people suffer.

Arkady was a chess player, Mikhael had told her, and Alexa believed him. Nine years ago, when Alexa had first met him shortly after Mikhael abducted her, Arkady had been playing chess at Mikhael's club. He was an ambitious FSB operative, skilled in the politics of espionage and impossibly patient where it counted. And he was quickly moving up the ranks.

He was one of Mikhael's regulars at the club, and after he discovered Alexa, she became one of his favorites, a position she discovered later, wasn't for the the weak hearted. Arkady liked inflicting pain and though he knew that many of the girls used drugs to do their work and deal with the pain he subjected them to, he insisted that Alexa stay sober while she was with him.

He liked seeing pure unadulterated torment in her eyes, not the dull pain usually laced with drugs that most girls exhibited when he played with them. He wanted to see the pain in Nathaniel George's daughter's eyes for himself, allowing himself to gloat over his prize.

"Maybe I should take photographs of you and send them to your father, yes?" He'd say casually as Alexa felt tears falling down her cheeks, her humiliation in Arkady's hands complete. No meeting left her without marks on her body, wounds that Mikhael treated in the privacy of his room, where her dignity felt stripped once more as she allowed the man who had kidnapped her to treat her wounds, allowing him to touch her and comfort her, yet never once allow her escape back to England.

But Arkady's scars weren't just physical. No tattoo could ever conceal the fear that she lived with for years, the nightmares that visited her each night, leaving her gasping for breath as Arkady's ghost always managed to come and visit her night after night till one day, she simply stopped dreaming altogether.

For four months during Alexa's captivity in Russia, Arkady had tormented her. Then one day, he stopped coming to the club. Mikhael heard that Arkady had been promoted within the ranks of the FSB, and that his new position often required him to leave Moscow for long periods of time. But even that had been no consolation, for whenever he returned, Arkady was always ready for more. One day, Arkady even brought a man named Oleg Darshavin with him.

And after two hours with Darshavin, Alexa learned how prisoners were tortured at Lubyanka prison.

And now Lucas was working with Arkady. And maybe that was why Lucas had sought her out at the hotel bar that night after she saw him along Regent street. Alexa knew it hadn't been some chance meeting. She felt it in the way he had looked around for someone as he entered the bar, his eyes scanning the room till he found her.

Arkady had probably sent Lucas to seek out what she was supposed to have stolen nine years ago, something that was probably still as valuable now as it had been then. _Tiresias._

Alexa gritted her teeth. She could not believe how, just less than twenty four hours earlier, she had fancied herself in love with Lucas North. _He was only after one thing. It was never her he was after._

Suddenly Alexa looked up. Something caught her attention, a sound so faint, she knew then that she was no longer alone. Turning off the water, she moved towards the wall, her hand reaching for something just outside the shower curtain. She slipped the terry bathrobe over her shoulders and moved her hand just outside the curtain.

Alexa had left Mikhael's gun by the sink just outside the shower stall and as her fingers touched the cool metal, she exhaled, relieved. Her fingers curled around the grip of the gun and she stepped out of the shower.

Outside, the rest of the flat was cloaked in darkness and Alexa walked as quietly as she could towards the open door of the bathroom. She listened. From the living room, she could hear the faint ticking of the clock on the wall, and nothing else. For what seemed like an eternity as she waited, she took a deep breath and stepped forward, hoping that she was just being a paranoid, hoping that she was alone.

But she wasn't.

Something struck her outstretched arm and Alexa cursed as the gun clattered to the floor and she lunged for it, just as arms grabbed her from behind, only to slip as she squirmed from his grasp and picked up her gun.

Lucas stepped into the light and Alexa took a step backward, the gun still held in front of her. He looked menacing, with his face half-lit up by the bathroom light. He looked at her, his eyes boring into her.

"Are you really going to shoot me, Alexa?"

Outside, the sudden clap of thunder made her jump, the sound forcing Alexa back to a place where her world turned white from the pain of a bullet grazing her skull, sending her hurtling through an abyss filled with demons like Arkady to torment her as she struggled to make her way back to the living.

_He was a traitor_, she told herself again and again, as if reciting a mantra inside her head for fear that other thoughts would coax the fear out of her, replacing it with a growing desire for him as he stood in front of her. The rage in his eyes awoke something deep inside her. _Hatred. Desire. Passion. Anger. _

They all mingled deep in her belly, roiling angrily as the sound of their breathing filled the space between them, coupled with the tension that built to a crescendo that Alexa could not ignore.

"Would you really shoot me?" Lucas asked again, his voice rising this time as his own anger began to build.

Alexa pointed the gun to his chest, no longer caring whether Lucas was the father of her son or not. She only saw a traitor before her, a man who worked for the one man she feared the most, the same man who'd stripped her of everything she was nine years earlier.

"Yes," Alexa whispered as she pulled the trigger.


	18. Chapter 18

**_"Don't cry, I'm sorry to have deceived you so much, but that's how life is." _**

Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

Harry was inside his office when the envelope was delivered by someone from the lobby. It had been dropped off by courier, the man said, as he handed the thick manila envelope to Harry, its exterior slightly dotted with rain that had just begun to drizzle outside. Harry thanked the man and watched him close the door behind him.

Outside his office, the Grid was slowing down its pace. Malcolm, however, was still hard at work, punching the keyboard in front of him as his eyes looked up at the screen. Next to him was Liam, watching the older man intently. Somehow, Harry thought, both of them had gotten along quite nicely, something that surprised even Malcolm.

Liam loved computers, and apparently knew how to work his way around some complex systems in addition to killing some nasty monsters on his handheld game console. With Ros and Jo at the hospital escorting and keeping an eye on Mikhael Lubienko, the Grid was a bit understaffed at the moment.

From the corner of his eye, Harry could see Ben Kaplan, one of his junior case officers, working on some files on his desk. Connie James, his intelligence analyst, walked in. She had taken the day off today but Harry had eventually called her in anyway, needing the extra help as they'd encountered some new intelligence through the network and he needed all hands on deck.

Harry watched as Connie walked over to Malcolm's desk and met Liam for the first time. Liam laughed at something she said and Harry found himself smiling. The child deserved a little sunshine on this otherwise frightening day and as Connie reached to tussle the child's hair, Harry tore open the envelope and pulled out the file contained within.

The file folder contained only photographs, black and white grainy photographs that depicted his god daughter in various forms of abuse. Harry's pulse raced as he flipped through the images. The photographs had dates stamped at the bottom right, most of them from nine years earlier, when Alexa was held captive in Moscow. The man doing most of the abuse had his back to the camera but Harry didn't need to have the man turn around to know who it was. The moment he flipped onto one of the next photographs, with the man turning to look at the camera, he needed no other confirmation.

Arkady Kachimov.

But as Harry put down the photographs on his desk so abruptly, not wanting to touch them anymore, another series of photographs tumbled in front of him. These were more recent, he thought, but the people in the them didn't concern him as much as the timing they had been taken did.

They were of Alexa and Lucas in her flat. Two of the photographs were taken from the living room and the next one from her bedroom. In light of the fact that Liam was Lucas' son, Harry wasn't as concerned over the fact that both of them had connected as soon as Lucas returned from Russia.

Harry had been so caught up over the events of Remembrance Day and Adam's death that he'd never bothered to look over Lucas' life outside the Grid. But someone did. Or maybe it was simply Alexa they were checking up on, he thought.

Arkady, Harry thought to himself. It had to be Arkady, probably a scheduled delivery from days earlier.

If what Lucas' said was true, that Alexa was a sleeper, then the last few photographs would probably make sense although Harry couldn't figure out why. What didn't make any sense were the photographs from nine years earlier.

He set aside the latest photographs and looked through the older ones again, noting how some of them were faded and a bit crisp, maybe from being stored too long. Many of the photographs were taken from the same room that contained only a bed and a leather armchair. But as Harry looked through each one, hating himself for seeing the pain and humiliation that Alexa had gone through, he stopped when he found one photograph that was taken from a different setting.

In this one, Alexa was bound to a chair in a dimly lit cell. To her right was a cart filled with instruments that Harry recognized right away. A vial of clear liquid and a syringe lay next to it. To her left was another cart, this one containing a metal box with wires and electrodes. Oh, God, no.

The knock on the door brought Harry back to the present and he quickly tucked all the photographs back into the folder. "Come in."

Connie opened the door and stepped inside.

"I'm sorry I had to take you away from your day off," Harry said. "I understand you had someone over for a visit."

Connie shrugged. "High school friend. I actually preferred getting away from all that reminiscing, so you actually did me a favor with that phone call."

Harry smiled ruefully. "Well, we definitely are having one of those days, Connie, so I appreciate you coming in. What have you got for me so far?"

"I've looked into that intel you wanted me to isolate," she began. "And it seems that Arkady Kachimov did have another contact outside of the FSB, someone he called Fenix."

"The phoenix?" Harry asked, tucking the folder of photographs beneath a pile of other folders on his desk. "Lucas said that Kachimov called him his phoenix during their meetings in Russia."

"This one is definitely not Lucas," Connie said. "I've had Malcolm run the voice through the usual suspects but he hasn't found a match. This one is much older, probably Kachimov's age."

"So there's someone else out there we need to watch out for," Harry said. "We've been wrong all along, thinking that the phoenix was meant to be Lucas."

"It seems like it," Connie agreed. "Have you heard from Lucas?"

Harry shook his head. "No, he's gone off comms. His phone is off and we have no idea where he is at the moment."

"Malcolm told me about Lucas being Liam's father, although looking at the boy, there's no mistaking the connection," Connie said, smiling. But her smile faded as she asked the next question. "And Alexa? Does anyone know where she is?"

Harry sighed. "No idea. Lucas said that she's a sleeper, which I find hard to believe. After all these years and all the times I've spent with her, with Liam, I just hope he's wrong."

Connie frowned. "Sleepers can go on for years, Harry, without doing anything related to their mission. They usually require a phrase to get activated."

"Lucas said she did have a phrase. 'because they wished to see too far before them, backward they look, and backward make their way.' Have you heard of it?"

Connie pursed her lips, her brow furrowing. "It's a quote from Dante's Inferno," Connie said. "The sorceress Manto was condemned to walk the eighth circle of Hell with her head turned backwards so that she could not see ahead of them."

Suddenly Harry's phone rang. It was Ros.

"Harry, you need to come to the hospital right now," Ros said. "Something's come up."

"Is Mikhael out of surgery yet?"

"Yes, he is," Ros replied. "But it seems we have an additional player in the game."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, as he stood up and gathered his coat. In front of him, Connie opened the door and left before him. Harry watched as she returned to her desk and sat down, her attention back to whatever was on the computer screen.

"You'd never guess," Ros said. "But big sister is here."

* * *

'Big sister's' entourage comprised of three men dressed in suits who now stood just outside Mikhael's hospital room door. Jo stood outside with the men, their expressions none too happy to be standing next to each other.

As Harry walked along the corridor that begun just outside the fourth floor elevator in front of the nurses' station where most of the employees seemed to hover, Ben walked quietly next to him. In his hand, Harry carried the manila envelope that had been couriered to Thames House just an hour earlier, gripping it tightly. The corridor extended to a part of the floor where the private rooms were situated.

Mikhael Lubienko had just emerged from surgery to clean up the bullet wounds he had suffered that afternoon - one bullet wound to the side of his torso and another to his thigh. He had refused to take the prescribed dose of painkillers for fear that he'd fall asleep before Harry arrived, Ros said.

"Just as good," Harry said as Ben navigated his way through London traffic. "The bastard needs to suffer for everything he's done."

But Mikhael's suffering was the least of his worries now, for another party had entered the picture. Jools Sivitir, head of MI6, was sitting on a chair next to Mikhael's bed and smoking a long tapered cigarette, clearly ignoring hospital protocol. Harry knew it wouldn't have mattered. Jools Sivitir did whatever Jools Sivitir wanted. He wore an immaculately tailored striped suit and for a moment, Harry wondered if Jools had been on his way to see an opera.

As soon as Harry walked in, Jools took a deep drag from his cigarette and blew out a long stream of smoke, courteously turning his head away from where Mikhael lay.

"Ah, Harry Pearce," Jools said, uncrossing his leg as he sat. "It's been a long time since our paths have crossed. I've quite missed our drinking games at the club."

"I'm afraid our paths have crossed sooner than I would've wanted," Harry muttered, pulling up a chair and positioning it across from Jools so that they both flanked Mikhael, who was sitting up on the bed. Harry pulled out the folder containing the photographs from under his arm and passed it towards Jools. "Is this your idea of a sick joke?"

Jools flipped open the folder and glanced through the photographs before handing them over to Mikhael. "Too skinny for my taste, really, but beautiful nonetheless," Jools said. "But no, that would be stooping a little too low for my taste. I like them older, with maybe vast knowledge about the opera and how to make the perfect cup of tea. No, it seems you've got yourself a secret admirer, Harry. Perhaps he or she thinks it would be more to your taste - though I hardly doubt it."

"Where'd you get this?" Mikhael asked, flipping through the pictures hurriedly, stopping to look at the most recent photographs of Alexa and Lucas together. "Some of these are from nine years ago."

"You should recognize them, Mikhael. After all, you're the one who kept her captive when you could have sent her back to the UK - if what I am seeing here is an indication about your position within MI6 is true," Harry said as Mikhael shot him an angry glance.

"Ah, yes," Jools said. "I believe you two haven't met yet. Harry Pearce, Mikhael Lubienko, deep cover MI6 operative. Mikhael, meet Harry Pearce, head of Section D." He clapped his hands together. "There!"

Harry ignored Jools, not in the mood to play any of the man's mind games just yet, though he appreciated the formal introduction. "Since when did MI6 turn captive nineteen-year-old girls into assets?"

Jools stubbed his cigarette onto one of the plates that served Mikhael's dinner minutes earlier and stood up, walking towards the window. "Since Alexa George managed to open a heavily encrypted flash drive containing names of your Sugar Horse assets and then proceeded to erase the entire thing after my operative intercepted the information."

Harry shot up from his chair. "What did you just say?"

Jools turned to face Harry. "You heard me. Sugar Horse. I believe it's your operation, isn't it, Harry?"

"How did you know about Sugar Horse? How long have you known about it?"

Jools shrugged. "Just long enough to know that once upon a very long time, your operation was compromised, Harry. Either that, or you have a mole in your organization. Now as your older sister, I'd like to remind you to keep your little hands away from my business, and I'll keep my hands away from yours. But, having set up your grand scheme in Russia over twenty years ago, I'll pretend I don't know anything about it and tell myself that you actually were doing me a favor."

Harry did not say anything, which gave Jools the opportunity to continue - not that he would have needed additional prompting to do so.

"Had it not been for my deep cover here, Mikhael Lubienko, or rather, Michael Smith - which I hate to say, is the dullest name I could ever want to be named after - your operation would have been doomed nine years ago. And all your assets would have been long dead."

Jools, in his immaculate Saville Row suit, walked towards the coat hanger and began to slip on his coat. "Michael has been working deep cover for me for the last fifteen years. Too long, if you ask me, and I'm afraid he's paid such a high price serving his country, don't you think? Five years in Russian prison, getting tattooed for lying to Kachimov about the death of an asset, almost getting blown up to smithereens, and getting shot up. Stuff of movies, if you ask me."

"I'm still here, Jools," Mikhael said. "It would be a lot more courteous if you reserved such conversation without me being in the same room."

"I apologize, Michael," Jools said. "I'm still in a state of shock realizing that you were finally in the UK and working so deep undercover that I had to hear it from intel gathered from my younger sister here - instead of hearing it from you. You know how I hate eavesdropping."

"You forgot me, Jools," Mikhael growled. "If you hadn't, this would never have happened." He gestured towards his face.

"Well, I have no excuse for my long absence, Michael, at least not right now with Harry Pearce listening in," Jools said, suddenly serious. "Maybe later during the debrief, we can talk about it further. And you were quite lucky, Michael, keeping the casualties to a minimum."

"That man at Alexa's flat? The one who charged me?" Mikhael asked, remembering the man he shot when he was tossing Alexa into the trunk of the car.

"He was FSB - friendly neighbor that he was. Bugged her flat and knew everything she was doing for a few years," Jools replied. "And that stunt you pulled, Michael, was what finally tipped me off that you were in the country. She had FSB neighbors, acquaintances, and god only knows, maybe even lovers, keeping the airwaves busy. They were keeping tabs on her all these years, just as we were, although I have to admit, we weren't as keen about it as they were."

"They must have stepped up their surveillance the moment Lucas North returned home from Russia," Mikhael said, deep in thought.

Harry, in the meantime, barely heard the conversation between both men, his face having turned pale in the flickering lights of the hospital room. "All this is impossible, Jools. No one could have acquired my Sugar Horse names. That flash drive could have been a bluff. For all we know, there could have been nothing in that drive."

"Well, after Miss George erased it, there _was_ nothing left in that drive, and for that, you have to thank your lucky stars, Harry. Which only means one thing. She still saw what was in it enough to delete the entire drive so that the Russians would not get it." Jools took a deep intake of breath and proceeded to walk towards the door. He stopped just as he reached for the door knob to let himself out. "Not only that, the juiciest part is learning who handed it over."

Harry started to say something but Jools held up his hand and Harry closed his mouth. "Now I don't care how the names were acquired, Harry. That would be _your_ problem since they were _your_ assets. I'm just glad that it never got to Russian hands then, although we now have a new problem."

"And that is?" Harry asked.

"Bluff or not, we now know that my precious asset, Miss George, has those names after all, and now the Russians know about it and are looking for her." Jools opened the door, glancing at his watch as he did so. "And that, Harry, is your biggest problem and your priority at the moment. You do know where she is?"

"Yes, Jools," Harry lied. "She's safe."

"Good," Jools smiled. "I'm going to need to debrief her as soon as possible. You'll know where to find me." He took a step out of the room before Harry said something that he didn't catch and stopped to look at him.

"Wagner?" Harry asked again, and Jools thought for a moment, shaking his head as an expression of distaste crossed his face.

"You just made me remember that awful piece of crap from years ago, Harry," he said thoughtfully. "The Cry of the Valkyrie in scuba gear. But no - no Wagner. Tonight, it's Tosca."

Harry watched as the door shut behind Jools, his heart beating wildly inside his chest. Damn the man, he thought to himself. Harry turned to face Mikhael, needing to direct his rage elsewhere yet knowing that it would be wrong for him to do so. If there was one thing that Jools was right about, it was that Mikhael Lubienko, or Michael Smith - if he indeed had worked deep cover all those years - had paid too high a price serving his country.

"You don't really have her, do you?" Mikhael said, his voice tired. Harry could sense a hint of disappointment there as well.

Harry shook his head, finally sitting back down on the chair. Suddenly he was exhausted, his knees weakening beneath him. Sweat gathered upon his brow. Sugar Horse. It had all been about Sugar Horse. Yet as much as he tried to look back at any time that his operation could have been compromised, Harry came up with nothing.

Twenty years earlier, Harry and two other men - Hugo Prince and Richard Dolby - had set up an elaborate plan of setting up moles throughout the Russian political system whose goal was to ensure that Russia would never succeed in any of its future nuclear aspirations. Each of the men would have their own assets with neither one knowing about the others. When Hugo passed away a few years earlier, Harry and Richard split his assets between them.

Yet Harry's list had been discovered, but by whom?

Harry turned to look at Mikhael. He sighed. His only hope for an answer to his questions would come from the same man who'd abducted his god daughter years ago, and in some twisted turn of events, turned her into an asset for MI6.

"Start from the very beginning," Harry said wearily as he leaned forward on his chair. "And don't skip on any details, no matter how horrific they may be."

It was going to be a long night.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Kudos and BBC. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

**CONTAINS ADULT CONTENT**

_Click._

Lucas stared back at Alexa as she pulled the trigger again, a pair of veins popping up from his forehead as he realized what she had just done.

_Click._

"I think you forgot this," Lucas said coldly, holding up a gun magazine in his hand, and as he placed it on the table next to him, his fists clenched in anger. As he stood there in front of her, Lucas was shaking with a rage that rose from years enduring hell in Russia, hearing her words on the ship just before she fled away from him, looking at him as if he were a cancer.

All those years, he thought, his own screams reverberating in his ears as his interrogators tried to break him again and again, till he was nothing but a shell of the man he used to be, all those years for this. To be treated like a common criminal.

Lucas had had the foresight to remove the magazine from her gun, including the bullet in the chamber, while she was in her walk-in shower, lost in her thoughts as he heard her sobbing. How could he even have thought that she understood him, knew the dreams that haunted him and feel one with her again and again? How could he have thought those things?

Alexa's mouth turned dry as she stared at his eyes, seeing the shadow that slowly slid over them. She took a few steps to the side, not wanting to be caged in the bathroom, her fear building as Lucas took a step forward, his eyes pinning her, mesmerizing her like a predator hunting its prey. His jaw tightened, the veins on his neck evident now as Alexa watched him, as if in slow motion, come for her.

"Damn you!" Alexa screamed at him as Lucas lunged at her, slamming her against the wall with a force that knocked the wind out of her. Her gun clattered to the floor, useless now as she flailed against him, trying to push him away from her. Alexa kicked at him but Lucas wedged himself between her legs and she found herself kicking at nothing.

Lucas brought his hand up, his fingers circling the delicate slope of her neck and she gasped when he began to squeeze. Tears sprang to her eyes and she called out his name, her nails raking across his arms as she fought to loosen his hold on her.

His rage surprised Alexa, his eyes turning a dark shade of blue as he glared at her and she found herself turning away from him, partly to relieve the pressure of his fingers around her neck. She tried to scream but nothing came from her throat, only gasps and grunts as she continued to fight him.

"For eight years, Alexa," he breathed against her ear. "For eight years, they held me prisoner, torturing me for days and not once did I ever betray my country. Not once."

"Lucas, stop," Alexa whispered before he squeezed again and her vision began to fade as she gulped for air, her lungs screaming. Stars exploded before her eyes and Alexa realized that Lucas was going to kill her.

"And here you are, in your nice little flat, living your privileged life, having the nerve to tell me what the hell I am," he growled.

Lucas released his fingers around her neck slightly and Alexa took a deep breath of air, her vision as if clouded by a cold white sheet that covered everything around her like a film. She saw it in his eyes as he stared at her, the pain behind his gaze tearing through her. _Lucas was telling the truth. He had never been a traitor._

The sudden look of recognition in her eyes told Lucas to let go of her and as he did, he felt a knot in his stomach growing, twisting, making him weak on the knees as he leaned further against her for support. As she moved her body against him, feeling him increase the pressure of his body pinning her to the wall, Alexa felt it, too.

Their breaths, heavy and labored, mingled in the slim space between them, their chests rising and falling together. Suddenly Alexa realized what it was. The rush of something so utterly dangerous yet seductive, the gray area between fear and excitement, pleasure and pain. Alexa saw it in his pupils, dilating now as the sensation overcame him, and he inhaled the sweet scent of her skin, the aroma of something else, dark and primal between them.

It was a heat that grew from deep between both of them, beginning just below their bellies where her skin met the fabric of his shirt, just above his belt buckle. Struggling against him had caused Alexa's robe to hang open, and she found herself naked, the the gentle mound of her sex rubbing against the jeans that he wore.

Alexa's eyes flashed up at him. He was hard, his manhood straining against his jeans. Lucas, realizing it, too, tried to move away from her, but his body refused. Instead, he pushed himself harder against Alexa, his chest crushing her breasts, feeling her nipples hard against his skin.

"Oh, god," she whispered, feeling her body betray herself as Alexa brought her arms up, her fingers twining themselves through his hair and she pulled his head down towards her. His hand around her neck loosened and drew away, moving down to the skin between her neck and her shoulder, pushing the robe off her shoulder, his other hand moving to circle the small of her back. Alexa found herself arching her back as Lucas muttered something she couldn't understand, adjusting himself so that while she was still pinned against the wall, his thigh kept her there, supported.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered huskily. "I really am."

Lucas bent down to kiss the soft skin between her neck and shoulder, his hand now caressing the slope of her breast, his fingers pinching her nipple, and causing Alexa to gasp as she clung to him. "I don't want your apology right now," he said as his lips left her neck and moved up, claiming Alexa's lips roughly, his tongue tasting her. "I want you."

Her legs encircled him and Alexa found herself moving her hips against him, feeling the hardness of him trapped in his jeans and she groaned as she began unbuttoning his shirt, pushing it past his shoulders. As Lucas freed himself from the confines of his jeans, Alexa hooked her toes along the top of his jeans, pushing them down to the floor.

She felt him hard and hot against the lips of her sex and Alexa moaned again as Lucas continued to assault her mouth with his tongue, the sensations driving her up along the first wave of her orgasm, hitting her hard. The adrenaline that had fueled her throughout the day had long gone but Alexa could still feel remnants of it coursing through her veins, driving her body to seek a release that only Lucas could fulfill.

"Tell me what you want," Lucas whispered, pulling his hips back as she groaned in frustration. Her fingers sought him out but he pulled her hand away as her hips rocked against him, her legs pulling him closer. "Beg for it."

"Please," she whispered.

His fingers trailed down towards her nether lips, feeling the wetness that coated his finger as he slipped one finger inside her, shocked at the wetness he encountered there. He moved his finger deeper, feeling her tighten around him.

"You've got to try harder than that," Lucas growled as he slipped two more fingers inside her, feeling her inner walls spasm around his fingers. Alexa gasped, clinging to him and pushing her hips against him as he slipped his fingers out of her, teasing the nether lips before slipping inside again, feeling her body strain towards him, yearning for more. She begged him then, using words that inflamed him, her hips thrusting forward to meet his fingers.

She was so wet for him, his fury exciting her in a way that took Alexa by surprise. She pulled herself up, positioning herself over him, feeling him right there, so close. His thumb found the swollen nub of her sex and she moaned further, breathing heavily against his ear as he pinched and rolled the sensitive skin between his thumb and index finger, and she bucked her hips against him.

Suddenly Lucas slipped his fingers out of her, chuckling as he heard her whimper against his ear. She felt him position himself against her entrance, the head of his cock teasing the sensitive folds of her sex and Alexa whimpered, pushing her hips closer towards him.

She begged for him again.

Suddenly he entered her, slamming her against the wall as Alexa cried out, her body spasming against the momentum of his initial thrust. She sucked on the skin of his shoulder as he began to move in and out of her, her legs wrapped around his hips, her body moving in unison with his, her hands wrapped around his neck as she held onto him.

Even Lucas found himself groaning as he felt the heat of her sheath surrounding him, coating him with her juices, squeezing him tightly, then releasing him ever so slightly as he pulled away. They stayed like that for a few minutes, matching each other's rhythm as he entered her, the head of his cock hitting the roof of her cervix, making Alexa cry out each time as the pain and pleasure mingled in one coagulated mass within her.

So it had come to this, Alexa thought, as she held onto him, feeling his ragged breath against her neck, his hand squeezing her breast and pinching and pulling her nipple till she cried out, writhing against him as the second wave of her orgasm claimed her. Alexa shuddered, her head flinging back against the wall and Lucas nuzzled her neck, keeping her trapped in his arms. The walls of her sex tightened around him and Lucas fought back the waves of his own climax approaching, slowing down as he watched her, feeling her ride each crest of her release as she clung to him, calling out his name.

Still inside of her, he carried her to the bedroom and laid her on the bed. This time, Lucas was gentle as he made love to her, the urgency of their union just minutes earlier slipping away as he held her. He kissed Alexa with a tenderness that surprised her, his mouth playing with her lips before moving downwards to nuzzle her breast, teasing and sucking on her nipple as he moved in and out of her, feeling her walls squeeze him tightly. She moved with him, and when he began sucking the skin between her neck and shoulder, moving up to lick the skin behind her ear, a shudder went through her body and she cried out, her fingers twined in his hair.

Alexa groaned when his mouth left her neck to seek the warmth and solace of her lips as he continued to move inside her, finally welcoming his own release as his body stiffened above her, her legs pulling him deeper inside her as his body shuddered.

When it was all over, as he still lay above her catching his breath, Lucas turned Alexa's face towards him. His blue eyes sought her, studying her features. He could get lost in her eyes, Lucas thought. He wanted nothing more than to sink into a deep sleep, and rest his tired body next to her. He hated having to get out of bed, out of her arms and make their way back to the Grid, to Liam and Harry who were waiting for them. But they had to.

Lucas kissed her tenderly on the lips, his fingers touching the darkening bruise on her jaw. "Did I hurt you?" He asked, his fingers touching her neck, settling behind her ear, rubbing the sensitive skin behind the auricle and her body shivered so that he pulled his fingers away, giving her a chance to rest a bit.

She shook her head. "Not any worse than almost having killed you." She said quietly, looking away from him.

Lucas cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. "I may never forgive you for that, Alexa. Twice you pulled that trigger."

"And twice I failed," she smiled, raising an eyebrow playfully. "But you do know that it's impossible to remove a magazine and a spare bullet in the chamber of a gun without making any noise, not even with the shower running."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better," Lucas said as he pulled her closer to him, cradling her in the crook of his shoulder. Outside it was drizzling. "Now you're going to make it difficult for me to get all cleaned up. God knows I need a shower."

Page 4 of 4

"Why do you say that? It's not like I charge for showers in here."

"No, I'm sure you don't," he smiled. "But I'm afraid that the moment I take my eyes off you, you're either going to run away again, or try to kill me again. I'm too tired to decide which."

She chuckled. "We'll just have to think of something to resolve our dilemma, won't we?"

Lucas tugged a lock of her hair playfully, his face turning serious. "But enough about me, Alexa. It's time you tell me the truth. No more secrets."

She turned to look at him and Lucas could see a bruise that had began to darken along her jaw. He traced the outline of her jaw and Alexa winced, but she bit her lip, taking a deep intake of breath as Lucas withdrew his fingers.

"No secrets between us? None at all?"

Lucas looked at her, the word she needed to hear just about to leave his lips. But just when he hesitated, Lucas found himself forcing a smile.

"Of course," he said.

But in the end, Alexa decided that if she were to tell Lucas everything, it would have to be with Harry present. The last thing she wanted was to recount her ordeal more times than was necessary.

"Whatever I was activated to do, Lucas, I will say it to Harry and you together," she said. "I promise."

Lucas sighed. "That only means one thing then," he said, pushing himself up from the bed that had felt so inviting just minutes earlier. "I have to get myself into the shower and take you to the Grid with me tonight."

As Lucas padded naked towards the bathroom, he turned to look at her, as if making sure that she stayed where she was. Alexa smiled to herself as she watched him slip into the walk-in shower, the sound of the water spray turning on. He poked his head out one more time and she laughed.

"I'm not going anywhere, Lucas North," she called out to him.

"Just making sure," he said from inside the shower.

A few minutes later, Alexa walked towards the bathroom and slipped into the shower just as Lucas was soaping himself, his back towards her. She brought her arms around his torso, her fingers spreading the soap across his skin.

"What are you doing?" He whispered, catching hold of her hand and interlacing his fingers with hers for a few seconds before letting them go, allowing her to run her hands freely over his skin.

"Resolving your dilemma for you,"Alexa whispered, taking the soap from his hand and proceeding to bring her hands down towards his belly, past his hips and along the front of his thighs. She circled the area above his knees and brought her hands towards the back, moving up along his taut hamstrings and up to his buttocks. She felt him tighten against her and he caught his breath as her fingers slipped underneath him, cupping him playfully.

"By keeping me busy like this, I won't be able to run away again, or try to kill you again," Alexa said. "Unless you want to stop. We are in a rush after all, aren't we?"

Alexa brought her hands back to the front of his thighs, her fingers encircling him, having grown hard and hot from her ministrations. Lucas groaned, his body tightening against her as her fingers held him, her body rubbing against his back. The soap tumbled from her hands but neither of them cared to retrieve it as the water soaked them both, washing the remnants of soap from the front of Lucas' body.

Alexa knelt in front of him, her hands still holding him, moving in a gentle rhythm along the length of him. "Do you want me to stop, Lucas?" She whispered as she brought her tongue along the underside of his cock, licking from its base to its tip, her eyes looking up at him the entire time, her tongue lingering to spend more time along the sensitive head before taking him into her mouth.

And as her mouth enveloped him in a sheath of searing heat and wetness, Lucas could only gasp, grabbing her hair and pulling her towards him, feeling himself hit the back of her throat, and hearing her moan, vibrations traveling through her mouth and all around him.

He groaned, knowing that she didn't need to hear the words come from his lips as he pumped her face against his hips, feeling her hands around his buttocks, kneading them.

_Don't stop._ His body said. _Don't ever stop._


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Kudos and BBC. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks for hanging in there! I hope you enjoy this installment :)_

_"Every chess master was once a beginner."_

Irving Chernev

The tracking device was hidden beneath the dead man's coat lapel, sewn between the layers of muslim that served to give the expensive coat its elegant shape beneath the outer layers of the softest merino wool. Since arriving in London weeks earlier, the Russian had availed himself of the best tailoring Saville Row had to offer, following recommendations from the man he called Sergei Fenix, a man he had grown to admire through the nine years he had known him.

But now the man lay cold and dead in a shallow grave in the middle of a deserted lot flanked by factory chimneys, shot in the heart by Harry Pearce, head of Section D. His coat was ruined now, all that money wasted.

How Arkady had allowed himself to be fooled by a minor player such as Lucas North was beyond anything Sergei could comprehend. The ruse had been so trivial, so minor, but yet as Sergei listened to the recording of Arkady's conversation with Lucas the previous day - recorded by the listening device the tailor had sewn into Arkady's coat - Lucas had appealed to Arkady's need for safety and security.

After all, Arkady had only recently earned the position as chief FSB resident in London just a few weeks earlier, and Lucas North had been his ticket, releasing the MI5 operative after eight years' imprisonment as part of a spy swap.

No one wants to be fed to the wolves during a fall-out, Sergei thought as his men dragged Arkady's body onto a plastic tarp. If Arkady hadn't fallen for Lucas' ruse, Russia would have made its first statement to the United Kingdom that it was a force to be reckoned with in the worldwide race for nuclear energy. The Alexei Leonov, a Russian submarine that yesterday had been lurking in British waters with the mission of tapping a major communications network cable and disabling it, would have been key to that bold move.

Instead, Arkady had put all his bets on Lucas and foiled the cyber-attack that had taken months to plan by giving up the valuable codes that disabled the submarine, rendering it useless in the water. It was a major embarrassment for the Kremlin. _All that work gone in a blink of an eye._

And now, Arkady was gone as well.

Sergei sighed. Just as well, he thought. If Harry Pearce hadn't pulled that trigger, Sergei would have done it himself. He would have done it a long time ago, but it had not been the place nor the time then.

One of the men looked at him and Sergei nodded curtly, a signal that told him to continue with the task at hand. The man poured caustic acid over Arkady's face and hands, burning off every trace of Arkady's identity, that of being FSB's man in London, recently installed, and now, quite recently deceased.

"The cub must not teach the wolf," Sergei whispered under his breath, the words spoken in fluent Russian as he watched Arkady's face melt in front of him. It was a Russian saying that Arkady should have known by heart. "You taught me that, Arkady. And now here you lie, dead and betrayed by your own little cub, Lucas."

He turned away, the smell of burning flesh wafting towards his nostrils. _Lucas North taught you the lesson you should have taught him, old man. _

Sergei Fenix had once been in Lucas' place a long time ago - the cub - though he had been much older than Lucas then, old enough to be Lucas' father. In his match against Arkady, Sergei had been the one on his knees, begging for another life to be spared so he could take its place, while Arkady was the man to stand over him and laugh at him, turning his back on him and his pleas.

Sergei's jaw tightened at the memory, though he knew that everything had happened for a reason. That had been nine years ago, the first time he'd met Arkady and known him to be one of the most ruthless men Sergei had ever met. Cruel, sadistic and utterly without morals behind the easy smile and friendly eyes, the man thought himself the wolf among the unsuspecting sheep.

But that man was gone now and as Sergei watched wrap up Arkady's body in the tarp and push it back into its shallow grave, a sense of relief wash over him. They hurriedly refilled the grave with wet soil as the rain began to strengthen.

Sergei, safe beneath a black umbrella, strode towards the idling Range Rover and got inside. He inhaled deeply, smelling the faint stench of industrial chemicals in the air, mingling with the smell of rain and freshly dug earth, before shutting the door.

So this was the smell of England now, he thought. _Traitors, murderers, and spies everywhere. No one was what they ever seemed_.

Once upon a time, Sergei had been a member of the British upper class and proud of it. During those days, he'd been known under a different name, the one he was born with and the one he carried till the end. Born of a noble heritage that spanned generations, earning him automatic entry into any school of his parents' choice - and his - and those of the oldest gentlemen's club in London, he had to admit that he'd lived a good life and for that he was grateful.

He served his country for over twenty-five years, working up the ranks in the Foreign Office, with posts that took him to Russia, Argentina and back to England. For two years, he'd been Ambassador to the Ukraine and after that, when he decided to stay closer to home, he maintained the position as governor for the Commission of Nuclear Energy. It was a position he'd keep till his death.

Unlike most men whose deaths are often unplanned and inconvenient for the ones left behind, Sergei's death as an Englishman had been meticulously carried through till the very end.

He died at his home, a process that was attended by his doctor who had, for almost a year, supervised a stringent diet that made Sergei appear emaciated to everyone around him, signing all the appropriate forms as his 'death' took place, and Fred Mortensen, his attorney, who filled out all the necessary forms ensuring his heirs lived a good life after he was gone. In his place, a vagrant who had fallen and hit his head just a few blocks from Vauxhall Cross, suffering an aneurysm that morning, was making his way to the mortuary for the immediate cremation.

Within the afternoon of that day, what was left of him was an urn bearing someone else's ashes. And while his heirs mourned, a memorial set for him that was quite well attended and covered by the media, Sergei found himself on board a shipping vessel en route to Russia, Arkady by his side ensuring he wouldn't change his mind. And next to Arkady, were two other men assigned to watch over him.

For two years, he worked hard to prove himself - that having him instead of someone else was to Russia's interest in its pursuit for nuclear energy power. He was a much bigger prize than the one they had originally sought out. Four years later, he'd earned his way to earning the trust of people high up in the Russian government, and found himself more powerful than the man who had in the beginning threatened to destroy him.

In the deadly game between Sergei and Arkady - the wolf and the cub - Sergei had finally become the wolf.

And Arkady was dead and buried.

Both men finished their grim task and got into the Range Rover. Fred Mortensen, his attorney now for over twenty years turned to look at Sergei from the front passenger seat. His graying hair remained dry beneath the hat that he wore and he removed it, shaking the water down onto the floor.

"How long ago did the hired help receive the order?" Sergei asked.

"Two hours ago," Fred replied. It was now eight thirty. "But communication has been sparse, if any. It appears that they don't know where the girl is, but they know where Mikhael is."

"Then that should be their first target then," Sergei said. "Any ideas where she might be?"

"We lost her at Purfleet when she ran and she's not at Trevor Square," Fred replied. "And she's not at the Grid either."

"How many were sent?"

"Four for her and two for Mikhael," Fred replied as he pulled out his phone, reading something on the screen. "He underwent surgery an hour ago."

A kill squad, Sergei thought as he gazed out the window. _God help them then. _

Mikhael was tired. The pain killers had finally begun to take effect and all he wanted to to do was close his eyes and get some rest. But even after Mikhael had gone through how he'd been tasked with the job of kidnapping Alexa in Paris and bringing her to Russia, turning her into a MI6 asset to protect her without going into its sordid details, and how, in some twisted way reminiscent of victims suffering from Stockholm syndrome, she'd trusted him enough to let him shoot her in the head, Harry still wanted the answers to the questions that hung over both of them from the very beginning.

_Where did the Sugar Horse names come from? Who had compromised the operation? How many assets had already been eliminated?_

For the answers to those questions, Mikhael had had to bring himself back to the moments when Alexa trusted him enough to begin telling him the intimate details of her life, the memories suddenly rushing towards him like an oncoming train and Mikhael found himself gripping the handrails of his hospital bed as he forced the feeling to pass him by, though they left him visibly shaken.

Every man is guilty of all the good he did not do, Voltaire once said. And as Mikhael heaved a sigh, he looked at Harry, knowing that the man was not about to leave till he would receive his answer.

Just as well, Mikhael thought, wondering whether word about Anatoly's failure to terminate his targets at the ferry terminal had reached the men in charge. He was sure they already knew, and when they did, Mikhael knew that this time, they'd send more than one.

_You might as well know it from someone, Harry_, Mikhael thought as he watched the man sit down on the chair in front of him. _None of us may not live to see tomorrow alive._

Since she'd been abducted five months earlier, Alexa had never been one to open up about her life. Opening up about anything remotely associated with who she was meant leaving herself vulnerable to everything and anything.

There were no such thing as friends among the women who shared the same fate as her, who would disappear one day never to be seen again, sent to some other place, maybe a club, maybe someone's home, Alexa never really knew. They would talk about the weather, dresses they would wear that evening, or tricks they'd learned to please the men. There was never talk about dreams, or their pasts, or even their future. In this new world that had become her only reality, there were no such things.

When Mikhael pulled the trigger that one night as Arkady watched, Alexa knew then how important it had been not to harbor any dreams or hopes of escape. She had nothing left to lose, not even a single hope that one day, she'd make it out alive.

The bullet tore through the left side of Alexa's head, a deep graze that ran across the temporal bone of her skull. And though the bullet had not penetrated through the bone, the wound itself generated enough blood that pooled beneath her head, and she would not emerge from a trauma-induced coma for almost two weeks.

When she awoke, Alexa could barely speak. And when she finally regained the power to do so, she recalled nothing of what had happened to her just before the shooting all the way back to a few years before her abduction in Paris.

Then one week later, she began to talk about the very things she had never told to anyone.

Mikhael remembered it vividly. Alexa had relapsed into a fever, the sutures on her scalp having gotten infected and Mikhael had found himself almost risking that one call to the head office asking for help - an emergency evacuation - despite the high alert situation they had found themselves in.

_Four people dead, including Oskar the Ferret. And Tiresias had been compromised. _The Kremlin was doing some housekeeping and everything was at a standstill. No call could be made without the Kremlin knowing who had made it.

Mikhael holed himself up in one of his safe houses and kept an old woman, a former country doctor, on hand to care for Alexa as he kept watch over her for two straight days till her fever finally abated. But throughout that time, she had talked, mostly through her delirium.

It was during the worst of her fever when she began talking about Minerva George, her mother.

Her mother, Alexa said, had been killed for information that she had stolen from a high-ranking MI6 official with whom she had been having an affair with when Alexa was about ten years old. The man was one of three men who organized a top secret operation called Sugar Horse, placing moles in all levels of the Russian government, with the one aim of preventing Russia's rise as a nuclear superpower.

How Alexa had known this was simple. Her mother had told her.

She had been her mother's confidante. Minerva didn't care if she was telling her secrets to a ten year-old child who could have passed them to someone else. Her mother knew her daughter well. She knew her secrets were safe.

Minerva had been on her way to drop off the Sugar Horse documents to her handler when the accident happened. The drunk driver hit their car head-on, killing Minerva instantly and sending Alexa flying through the window of the car, landing a few feet away with broken ribs and a broken leg.

Nathaniel had been in Geneva for a meeting as Governor for the Commission of Nuclear Energy at the time and returned home just in time to plan his wife's funeral and sit by his daughter's hospital bed as she recovered from the accident. Too busy handling the affairs of the country, Nathaniel had had no idea what his wife had just done. He had no knowledge that his beloved wife, _mi tesoro_, as he called her, was a traitor.

When the house was broken into and torn apart on the day of Minerva's funeral, Alexa knew exactly what the thieves were looking for. The documents were never found, whether at the accident site, on Minerva's body, or in the house where the George family lived in Trevor Square. It was assumed that the documents had burned in the car fire just before the paramedics and the fire fighters arrived at the scene.

Eight years later, two weeks before her trip to Paris with her friends, Alexa found the documents hidden inside the doll she had had with her during her accident, dried blood still encrusted within the doll's joints. The names had been stored inside a thumb drive, in an encrypted file labeled "Sugar Horse." That evening, she logged on her computer and typed in the words "Sugar Horse" in the search engine, including two names that she had seen first on the list of names.

She was only eighteen years old, Mikhael said to Harry. _She had been too naive then_.

Two days later the two Sugar Horse assets were found dead, both shot in the back, and Nathaniel's home was broken into once more, the entire house torn apart though the names would still elude the men who sought them. MI5 and MI6 would not discover the alerts for the words 'Sugar Horse' in their computer surveillance records till seven days later, two days after Alexa would disappear in Paris.

"How did she get those names, Mikhael?" Harry asked. There were too many questions to ask, so much to learn and he knew he was running out of time. "Did Alexa tell you? Who compromised my operation and who handed the file as ransom when she was in Russia?"

Suddenly the room turned pitch black and screams filled the air outside. The door flung wide open and Harry heard the sound of footsteps running across the floor. He got up from his chair as fast as he could just as he felt Ros' strong arms grab him, pushing him onto the floor where he landed on his side.

The loud bang of shots fired in the hallway filled the air. The sparks of light flashing from the muzzle of Ros' gun as she fired in the direction of the door gave Harry glimpses of a woman, her hair tied in a bun behind her, wearing a white doctor's coat. In the woman's hand was a gun with a silencer attached to its muzzle, directed at Mikhael and Harry yelled his name.

As much as Harry loathed what Mikhael had done to Alexa in Russia, keeping her as an asset, a honey trap, instead of sending her back to London - because he actually had the power to do so - Harry needed information. He needed it badly.

Mikhael kicked the side table towards the door as hard as he could. The pain in his leg shot through his hip and he shouted in pain just as the side table careened against the woman, her arm flinging upwards as Ros' aim proved true, hitting her in the chest twice.

The smell of gunpowder hung in the air as silence descended in the room about them. The emergency generator finally kicked in, its gentle hum seeming to vibrate throughout the room as Harry picked himself up off the floor and ran towards the bed where Mikhael lay on his side, his back towards Harry.

The darkness had only lasted barely a minute, he thought. Yet it had felt like an eternity.

By the door, the woman lay on the linoleum floor, her blood pooling beneath her. In the far end of the corridor, two more shots rang out and more screams. The MI6 operative assigned to stand guard at Mikhael's door limped towards them as Ros ran out of the room and trained her gun at him, her senses on high alert.

_Friend or foe?_ Ros was no longer sure.

The man raised his gun in one hand and his MI6 badge in the other.

"It's me, Myers," he gasped and as the gun he held in hand clattered to the floor, Ros saw the spot of blood on his side, spreading across his white shirt beneath the coat he wore. "I got the one by the power room," he said, grimacing in pain.

Just minutes earlier, they had stood side by side joking about the number of successful kills under their record, though even Ros knew that the numbers they'd spoken out were not true. They were merely killing time. His name was Eddie.

Eddie stumbled towards her, finally falling to his knees as Ros screamed for the frozen staff of nurses at the station to do something - to help and not just stand there. And as if the curses she peppered her orders with finally broke through some trance they were under, the nurses sprang to life they rushed around him with their carts and their medical paraphernalia, someone shouting orders for a gurney and other medical items Ros was unfamiliar with.

Inside the hospital room, Harry pulled Mikhael onto his back. Mikhael was gasping for breath, his eyes wide. His chest was wet, the hospital gown he wore soaked to the skin with blood that poured out of his torso where the bullet had pierced through the skin and punctured something major.

Mikhael was bleeding out and Harry cried in desperation for help, reaching for the call button designed to get someone in the room. He knew what death looked like, how the light in a man's eyes slowly faded as death drew near, gathering him to its embrace. Harry found himself holding onto Mikhael's hand tightly as he grunted in pain, gasping for breath that would not come as easily as it once did.

"There's something else you need to know," Mikhael gasped, drawing Harry closer, his voice growing faint with each passing second as the pain slowly began to recede. "Euripedes once said that 'to a father growing old, nothing is dearer than a daughter.' You have to keep her safe, Harry."

"Yes," Harry said. "I love Alexa like my own daughter."

Mikhael shook his head. Blood seeped from the side of his mouth. "Not like her father, Harry. Not like Nathaniel. He will do anything to keep her safe. And I mean anything."

Harry frowned, his grip tightening around Mikhael's hands whose own grip had began to weaken, to slip away. "Nathaniel's dead. I buried him eight years ago, Mikhael. I'm the only one close enough to a father that Alexa will ever have."

This time, Mikhael laughed weakly, his shoulders shaking as he shook his head. "You're wrong, Harry." He coughed and Harry looked away as blood sprayed across Mikhael's chest. Medical personnel burst into the room, ordering Harry to step back, to move away. But Harry held onto Mikhael's hand tighter than ever.

"What are you saying, Mikhael?"

Mikhael muttered something and Harry strained forward to listen.

"Phoenix?" Harry asked. "What about the damn phoenix?"

This time the medical doctors pushed Harry away from Mikhael, a cart filled with instruments taking his place alongside the hospital bed. Harry pushed his way between them, not caring anymore. Mikhael was still talking, his voice fading away, muffled by the medical terms being tossed around between the personnel.

"Nathaniel," Mikhael whispered just before the oxygen mask was shoved onto his face but he pushed it away, staring at Harry with wild eyes whose lights were slowly fading. His words had grown faint, more so with the oxygen mask now firmly placed over his mouth but his words were unmistakable. And Harry finally back, allowing the doctors and the nurses to do whatever they could to the dying man.

_He's alive, Harry. _ Mikhael had said. _Nathaniel George is alive._


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

"I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun."  
-Jane Austen

"It's raining cats and dogs out there," Lucas said as he slipped his jacket over his shoulders and turned away from the window just as Alexa emerged from the bedroom. She was dressed in a black shirt, jeans and boots. As Lucas watched her, the knot in the pit of his belly tightened at the memory of how she had kept him company in the shower just half an hour earlier.

He exhaled, realizing he had been holding his breath the entire time as he watched her. He sighed. He was tired, his body yearning for sleep but he knew the day was far from over. He still had to get them both back to the Grid for Liam, and to debrief Harry about what had happened on the ship.

He wanted to know what had happened to Nadia, and the man who had held her, remembering how he had dragged the poor girl behind him behind the warehouse. He was distracting me from Alexa, he thought.

Alexa was looking for something atop one of the shelves just above her head, standing on tiptoes as her hand scanned the items. Lucas saw a matryoshka doll flanked by a set of buddhas and a Ganesha statue. Trinkets, he thought.

"We need to get back to the Grid, Alexa," he said as she grabbed hold of the matryoshka doll a little too quickly and pocketed it, her back towards him. Lucas frowned.

"I need to brush my teeth first," she said as she made her way to the bathroom and closed the door behind her, almost slamming it in her haste.

Alexa locked the door behind her, bringing her ear against the door. She could hear him walking away, and a few seconds later, the sound of the microwave turning on. He was warming something up, she thought as she opened her palm.

The matryoshka, a Russian nesting doll, was old, probably an antique when she'd first received it. It was intricately painted and featured a Russian matron with rosy cheeks and a cupid smile, wearing a sarafan, the traditional Russian long, trapeze-shaped pinafore. It separated from top to bottom at the torso, each outer doll revealing another smaller doll inside, ending with the smallest one, usually lathed from one piece of wood and didn't separate.

Alexa twisted the top of the first doll, revealing the second smaller one beneath. She worked fast, looking at the door and making sure that Lucas was still warming up whatever it was he was making. Probably tea, she thought. She heard the beep of the microwave timer.

The doll originally had consisted of eight dolls but Alexa had discarded the last three to make room for something else. Something that had already cost the lives of four people that she knew. As she got to the last doll, a piece of roughly whittled wood with hastily drawn lines to depict it as a swaddled baby with dots for eyes and a cupid mouth, she paused. It did not match the intricately carved dolls which had long concealed its treasure for nine years.

She felt the rough cuts along its surface, not matching the rest of the dolls she'd just opened and exhaled nervously, her mind taking her back to a different place and time. She had whittled the wood herself, she thought, forming the shape of something that, unpainted, resembled a peanut in its shell. And like a nut shell that contained its treasure inside, she'd carved out just enough room for the thumb drive to fit into.

She remembered how it had clicked in place, snug enough in its hiding spot, a few dabs of wood glue and a few painted lines along its surface finally sealing its secret within. Mikhael had taught her where to hide things in the human body and outside of it, and she'd used the knowledge well when it came to something that was just a piece of wood.

This one, she knew, was a huge risk. Anyone could pick it up, but she'd had nowhere else to hide it. At the time that she had whittled it, she knew Arkady was on his way to kill her and the three other girls who had been with Oskar.

When she first awoke after being shot, she remembered hearing Mikhael and an older woman talking in the room. Alexa had kept her eyes shut, ignoring the pain in her throat from the feeding tube that had kept her nourished for almost two weeks. She knew she wasn't in a hospital but a small room with only the barest of furnishings. Medical equipment that appeared dated surrounded her but no matter how old they were, she realized that they had kept her alive.

From listening to them that morning, she learned that she'd been asleep for two weeks, as the woman preferred to describe her state, and that the fever had finally abated. She heard them talk about the search for the hard drive and that it had not been found, not even in the hiding places that Mikhael had taught her.

It took Alexa a few more days to finally remember what she had done - the whittling of the wood just days before, and its hasty painted strokes, remembering how she'd replaced the original baby matryoshka doll with the one she had created.

It was the one gift that Mikhael had given her when she first met him in Paris at the outdoor market, when she ran into him while she had been with her friends. He'd simply stared at her then and together with her friends, they had laughed at him but she was flattered. When he saw her admiring a shop with Russian trinkets, he purchased the most expensive matryoshka doll he could find among his inventory, the same one he'd noticed her inquiring about.

It was the only thing she had managed to keep with her through her whole ordeal after Mikhael kidnapped her on orders of Arkady, and she suspected that Mikhael had intended it that way. It had been his gift to her before they both ended up in hell.

He had never suspected that it would contain the one thing he had been searching for the entire time, even after he himself handed it to Alexa as she got into the van that would take her to Demodovo airport and then home. Yet for some reason, Mikhael did know, Alexa thought. He knew because he gave her the activation phrase telling her that it was time to hand it over to British security services.

It was time to let it go.

Alexa opened the medicine cabinet and took a nail file from the shelf. She pressed the tip of the knife on a painted button on the front of the doll, turning the metal so that it poked into the wood.

Outside, she realized that it was deathly quiet. "Shit," she breathed, quickly working on finding the seam in the wood, the one she herself had made.

Suddenly Lucas was banging on the door. "Open the door, Alex," he demanded. When she didn't answer, he pounded on the door again.

Alexa twisted the nail file one more time, wedging it into the crack that had formed the first time she'd pushed the tip through the painted button. Her hands shook as she managed to finally crack the wood. But just as the baby matryoshka finally yielded its treasure, the door burst open and Lucas rushed towards her, grabbing her hands and dragging her to the living room. This time, Alexa did not fight him as Lucas pried her hands open.

The plastic case contained the computer thumb drive, just as she had last seen it nine years earlier. Lucas broke open the plastic case and the thumb drive dropped onto his palm.

"Is this what Mikhael was talking about on the ship? 'Because they wished to see too far before them, backward they look, and backward make their way,'" Lucas demanded. "Is this what it's all about, Alex? The bomb, the sniper," he looked at the flat around him. "Even this flat you've got under the name Dimitri Ilyakov, the name I used when I found you in Moscow nine years ago? Is it because of this?"

He brought the thumb drive in front of her.

Alexa stared at him. She grabbed the thumb drive from his hand but Lucas pulled his arm away, grabbing her arm with another as she winced in pain.

"Is it because of this drive?" He demanded again. He pulled Alexa close to him, his mouth against her ear.

"What is in here that's worth killing for?"

"Secrets are always worth killing for, Lucas," she said. "But I can't tell you. I don't want you involved." Too many people had died for that names inside that thumb drive, she wanted to tell him. Not you, too.

"Involved? I've been involved with you ever since I met you nine years ago," Lucas said angrily. "It's too late to keep me out of this now." He slipped the drive inside his jeans pocket and pulled out his phone, turning it on.

"No!" Alexa cried out, reaching for his phone as Lucas drew his hand away from her. "They'll know where we are. I can't risk them finding this."

"And how would they know that?" Lucas asked as he waited for his phone to power up.

"There are moles everywhere, Lucas, and they're after whatever is inside that drive," she said, watching as the phone screen turned on. "They're in MI5 and 6, and I bet the Grid is tracking you through that phone. That's why you didn't turn it on, isn't it when you first found me here? You didn't want them to know where this flat was either. The moment Harry knows where you are, the mole will, too."

"And how do you know there's a mole within MI5?" Lucas asked.

"Turn it off, Lucas, please," she said, hoping the powering up hadn't given anyone else listening enough time to track them. "I promise I'll tell you."

Lucas sighed and pressed a button to turn the phone off, shaking his head as he did so. "I knew you were a sleeper the moment I saw you with Mikhael on that ship today. Now you tell me who the traitor really is, Alex. Mikhael works for Arkady, which means that you work for him, too."

Alexa shook her head as she pulled herself away from him. "I would never work for that scum, Arkady, even if my life depended on it, Lucas," she said, pausing before she delivered her next line.

"Mikhael Lubienko is MI6."

Lucas took a deep intake of breath as he heard her words. He let go of her arm and took a step back.

Suddenly the last words Mikhael had said to him on the ship came back to him. Leave her alone, he had said, with no trace of the Russian accent Lucas had heard just minutes earlier.

"And you, Alex?" Lucas asked. "What does that make you? How long have you been working for MI6?"

"I'm just a pawn in this game, Lucas. We all are."

* * *

Outside, the rain had slowed down and a light fog fell upon the city. The time was passing them by, Lucas thought, and Liam was still at the Grid waiting for them. They had to get back, but he couldn't get himself to leave just yet. Not until she told him everything that he needed to know.

"The thumb drive contains names of moles throughout United Kingdom," Alexa said. "It was given to me Oskar Millivic."

"The Ferret," Lucas whispered. "He was found dead a month before I found you. He was able to penetrate high up within the Kremlin before he was found out after a drunken outburst at - " Lucas paused, staring at Alexa, the realization hitting him.

"It was you. You were Oskar's contact that night," he whispered. "But I heard that the contact was killed shortly after he was terminated."

"And so I was," Alexa said. "But I don't know exactly what happened and I wasn't able to hand what Oskar gave me over to Mikhael. And for nine years I hadn't been able to hand it over to him or to anyone else because I didn't know who I could trust here at home," she continued. "I knew I was being watched the moment I got back, everything was bugged, even the house to this day."

"I couldn't even trust Harry with it. I only knew that the phrase that you heard Mikhael said on the ship - it's about two seers, a father and a daughter, who are cursed to look forever backwards as they walk the eighth circle of hell in Dante's Inferno -"

"That was your activation phrase," Lucas said.

She nodded.

She bit her lip and began pacing back and forth. "I didn't even know what I was, Lucas. I didn't know what happened to me in Moscow. Mikhael said I was shot in the head, on orders by Arkady. When I came back to London, I tried to write everything down in a diary - everything that happened to me from the time I left for Paris, but there was nothing. It was like the slate was swept completely clean. I knew things happened, bad things, but I could not remember a single one. That is, until today."

"The memories came back," Lucas whispered.

Alexa sighed, shaking her head as she fought back the visions that flitted in and out of her memory. "And they're still coming back. Horrible things."

Lucas remembered the scars on her back, hidden by the large tattoo of the Hindu goddess Kali. He touched her arm, feeling her body stiffen against him. "Maybe it was best that you didn't remember them then, Alex."

"Before today, my only memories of Moscow began just three weeks before you came to find me. I remember waking up and not able to tell Mikhael what he wanted to know. And when Mikhael couldn't get the answers he wanted from me, he had me work the club floor as punishment the night I met you. He thought humiliating me would jog my memory," she said bitterly. "After all, it wouldn't have been anything that was new to me."

"But it was, wasn't it?" Lucas asked. "Because you couldn't remember anything else that you'd done before that."

Alexa nodded. She remembered how Lucas had become that beacon that she'd held onto, a hope that she'd long abandoned. "I was no longer of any use to anyone. Not to MI6."

Lucas frowned. If Mikhael was MI6, why did Harry send Lucas to search for Alexa? Lucas knew that both departments often worked together, but to have a deep cover MI6 operative turning an eighteen-year old girl into an asset when he could have easily sent her home baffled Lucas.

Then he remembered Mikhael's file and the photograph of him with a woman and a baby. Instead of sending her back to London, did Mikhael keep her because she reminded her of Oksana? It was the only explanation Lucas could think of. She was eighteen years old then, Lucas thought. The bastard.

He remembered how she had looked when he first saw her in that seedy club. She looked so broken then. She had trembled when he touched her. Lucas remembered the scars and the missing teeth. He remembered the hollow eyes. Most of all he remembered how Mikhael had stood there by the door and ordered them to do as he wanted, simply because he liked "to watch."

Lucas shut his eyes and fought hard to control his temper as the emotions came rushing at him. He'd been searching for Alexa for weeks in Moscow, going from one club to another to find her. Everyone he talked to said she was dead, that she was among the girls found dead, their bodies floating in the river.

But then he received a note, dropped off at the hotel desk. It told him where to go, where to find the "English princess".

"Did he know who I was?" Lucas asked. "Did Mikhael know I was MI5 when I found you?"

Before Alexa could answer, the intercom phone rang, shattering the tension that had built up between them as they sifted through the past they had shared briefly together.

Alexa turned to face the wall just behind the front door and glanced at the faces appearing on the video screen intercom. She cursed under her breath, and ran towards the living room where she'd last seen her gun. The intercom phone kept on ringing.

Two men peered into the camera before looking around them, as if checking to make sure they were alone, the light of the outside lobby illuminating their faces from above. Lucas watched their lips move on the screen. Russian, he thought. They're speaking in Russian.

"What did I tell you about turning on your phone?" Alexa said as she inserted the clip back into the pistol hand grip and pushed it all the way in till she heard a click. Lucas raised an eyebrow as he watched her release the safety and cock the pistol. "I warned you about the mole in the British security services and now they're here."

"Starting to nag already? Quite early in the relationship, don't you think?" Lucas said as he unlocked the door. On the intercom screen, one of the men suddenly aimed his gun at the front door lock and fired.

"Shit," he said. "Is there another way out of here?"

Alexa ran towards the far end of the flat and opened the door that led to a dimly corridor. "Not all units have this door, but it'll take us to the back stairs," she said as Lucas followed right behind her. "It's how I got in."

Suddenly the building's power went out and within seconds the building generator kicked in. They heard shouts followed by screams but Lucas and Alexa didn't stop. They hurried down the steps, their footsteps echoing in the stairway.

In the distance, they could hear the sound of gunshots. Someone shot the locks off Alexa's front door.

"Hurry," Lucas shouted as they made their way down the stairs, Alexa right behind him.

Just as they cleared the third floor, the door to the second floor suddenly burst open and a man stepped through the doorway, his gun aimed at them. As he fired, Lucas drew back, his arm protectively pulling Alexa right behind him. Pieces of wall material showered against their faces, the shots echoing within the narrow stairwell.

Lucas fired three rounds at him. The man crumpled to the ground just as a door opened on the floor above them and Lucas and Alexa continued down the stairs as shots rung out, shell casings clattering to the floor as a hail of bullets trailed their wake.

They had to make it to the exit, Lucas thought, hearing the footsteps echoing behind them. As Lucas opened the door and peered out, Alexa fired a few rounds towards the stairs, giving Lucas enough time to make sure no one was waiting outside.

The back alley was deserted. A fog had descended upon the cobblestones and Lucas pulled Alexa behind him as they made their way with their backs against the wall.

As Lucas pulled Alexa behind a row of cars parked behind the building, the door flung open and the second man emerged. Lucas shot him before he could raise his gun at them but at the same time, another man appeared from the corner behind them, and began shooting.

Bullets hit the car behind them, showering Alexa and Lucas with shards of tiny pieces of glass.

"Run!" Lucas ordered but Alexa wasn't listening. She was breathing hard, her vision narrowing in the darkness, focusing on the third man as he made his way behind a dumpster alongside the far wall. She was suddenly tired and fed up, the rage rising from the depths of her chest as she raised her gun and began shooting two, three, four rounds at him, the gun hot against her hands.

The man disappeared behind the dumpster but did not get up.

Lucas pulled Alexa back behind the car, car alarms blaring all around them, both his hands gripping hard against her shoulders as he looked at her. It would be moments before Alexa would hear what he was saying, before she'd realize that a few seconds earlier, she had found herself back in Moscow and she could smell the earth beneath her head once again, see the dead eyes of Irina staring back at her.

Damn it, I panicked, she thought but she could not stop herself from trembling.

"It's okay, Alex," Lucas was saying. "It's alright." He pulled her against him, ignoring people who had emerged from the buildings around them, some of them threatening to call the police although he knew many of them already had. Car alarms began to shut off and Lucas was grateful for the momentary silence.

A kill squad, he thought. Someone had sent a kill squad after them.

Still holding her tightly against him, Lucas dialed the Grid. Connie answered on the first ring.

"Lucas, this is Connie. Where are you?" She demanded. It had been hours since they'd heard from him.

"Where's Harry?" Lucas asked. He had only met Connie a few days earlier, his mind racing as he saw her face in his mind. Older lady, cropped hair, sweet smile. Eagle eyes.

"Where are you, Lucas? Is Alexa with you?"

"She's with me, yes," Lucas replied. "We're coming in."

"Lucas," Connie said just as Lucas was about to hang up. "Please say on comms next time."

Lucas didn't reply. He returned the phone into his pocket and looked at Alexa, tilgint her head up towards him. She looked scared, her green eyes wide. "This is not the shooting range, Alex," he said. "This is real, okay? This time, it's real."

She nodded.

"We need to get to the Grid tonight. Are you going to be alright?" He pulled her away from him to check to make sure she was unharmed, his hands feeling her sides and her arms, shaking the glass shards from her hair.

Alexa reached for something inside her coat and three cars away from them, a black Lexus chirped, its doors unlocking automatically.

"As long as you do the driving, Lucas," she said, a trembling smile on her lips. "I'll be alright."

* * *

Though the offices in the first few floors of Thames House still teemed with activity at this time of the night, the fourth floor was quiet.

Unofficially, the fourth floor housed two suites often used for guests when the need arose. The hallways were silent and except for one or two people who drifted in and out of the offices at the east end of the floor, the west end was completely quiet.

It was approaching nine thirty at night when the doctor arrived along with a representative from Children's Services. At the lobby, they presented the security workers with expedited documents ordering the immediate transfer of a minor who was believed to be currently housed at Thames House over to the doctor and Children's Services. It had been signed and dated just an hour earlier.

According to the document, word had gotten around that Section D was housing a minor whose parents were not on-site, and as of four thirty that afternoon, were considered missing. If there were any objections, the Children's Services representative said, they would have to address them the following morning in court. In the meantime, the child would be brought to the facilities located nearby. If the parents happened to return, the representative added, the child would be returned with no further review being required.

"But for now," argued the doctor named Gordon Meeks, "Thames House is no place for a child."

The process took approximately twenty minutes.

Jo dialed Harry's number and then Ros, not getting an answer from either of them. She called the Grid downstairs and talked to Connie.

"They're on their way back to the Grid, Jo," Connie said. Malcolm had gone home for the night and aside from two other junior case officers currently working on the floor, Connie was by herself. "Is anything the matter?"

"They're taking him away, Connie," Jo said, panic rising in her voice. "I don't know what to do. I can't get a hold of Harry, or Lucas for that matter. I've called the courts that signed the papers and they've confirmed it."

"Who is taking who away, Jo?"

"Children's Services, and a Doctor Meeks. The said someone called them this afternoon and reported that a child was being housed here," Jo replied and in the background, Connie could hear the voices of two other people talking, demanding that Jo hand over the boy.

Suddenly there was a commotion. Something muffled Jo's voice as she tried to scream, the phone sounding as if it had fallen on the floor. Connie called her name again and again. "Jo, is everything alright? Jo? Jo?"

Fifteen seconds later, there was silence. But Connie kept calling for Jo.

In the background, Connie heard a man speaking.

"Do you know who I am, Liam?" The man asked.

The child's voice, unsure at first, answered something Connie didn't hear. Then the boy answered again. "Yes, I know who you are."

"Good," the man said. "I'm here to take you to your mum."

The man's voice came on the phone, interrupting Connie's mantra of calling Jo's name. "Miss Portman is alright." the voice asked, and Connie heaved a sigh of relief. "She'll wake up in an hour or so."

"And the boy?" Connie asked. "You will not hurt him?"

"He'll be going home where he belongs," the man replied.

Connie sighed as she returned the receiver back on the cradle. Relief flooded her body as she turned to her computer screen knowing that Jo was safe. She began to type on her keyboard, the corresponding screen showing various call logs for that day. As she searched the communications log for the call that Jo had just made minutes earlier, searching through the phone signatures on the screen in front of her, Connie knew she was doing the right thing.

The Russian operation called Tiresias had been compromised nine years ago when a thumb drive containing all the names of Russian assets and their corresponding missions had been passed on by a high-level FSB mole to an MI6 asset they promptly christened Manto - for the seer Tiresias' daughter.

Though the woman they called Manto had been presumed dead for almost nine years, Arkady Kachimov had orchestrated an elaborate arrangement of trading Manto for a much bigger fish - someone who would ultimately help forward Russia's interests in becoming a nuclear superpower. The trade involved keeping Manto alive.

But now Manto had awoken and Tiresias was about to be exposed again, and this time, the stakes were much higher than Connie had ever anticipated. She had worked hard in orchestrating the entire operation for the last twenty five years. She wasn't about to watch all her hard work destroyed by some strumpet like Alexa George.

Tiresias had to be protected at all costs. Connie found the phone signature she needed, selected it and with a click of the mouse, she deleted it from the log. No one would ever know, she thought.

As Connie leaned back against her chair, waiting Harry and Ros to return to the Grid, Liam was being ushered through the lobby of Thames House and into a waiting Range Rover. And though the logbook would bear the name of the doctor named Gordon Meeks who now lay dead in the back of an alley a few blocks from the hospital he had just stepped out of to smoke a cigarette, the man in his place signed the log with his real name, a taunt to one man whom he knew would recognize it immediately.

Yes, Harry Pearce, Nathaniel said to himself as he ran his hand along Liam's hair, feeling the little boy tremble beneath his touch, this is personal.


	22. Chapter 22

_"Can't trust people. _  
_Won't do any good. _  
_They'll kill you every time. _  
_They'll kill each other. _  
_They'll kill every one."_  
-Haruki Murakami

Long after the medical personnel wheeled Mikhael and Eddie into surgery, Harry only heard the same four words again and again. Even as Ros went through how she knew the woman was not a doctor by the shoes she had worn - black boots while everyone else on the floor seemed to wear identical nursing shoes - and about how Eddie saw the woman's companion disappear into the power room, the gun with the silencer attached to its muzzle revealed as his white coat flapped as he walked by, Harry barely heard her.

And even after they'd arrived back at Thames House and were faced with the latest dilemma that awaited them, Harry only heard the same four words echoing inside his head.

Nathaniel George is alive.

But how could it be? He'd watched the man slowly die, his once healthy frame turning into skin and bones by the time the four months went by as cancer slowly claimed him. Harry still remembered how he had visited Nathaniel as much as he could, even staying with Alexa and Liam, then only a few months old whenever Nathaniel seemed too ill to be good company.

When Nathaniel passed away at his home, Harry had been in Cumbria with Alexa, who had wanted to see where her rescuer in Russia had grown up. She knew that Lucas was the man she'd met in Moscow, even though he'd called himself Dimitri then. And through her father, she had known that he'd grown up in Cumbria, and it would be there that Harry would end up taking her and Liam when Nathaniel asked his friend to take his daughter for a trip out in the country.

"She needs to get away from seeing me like this, Harry," Harry remembered Nathaniel telling him. "It breaks my heart. She's been through so much already, and with having to carry some bastard's child - even though I love that baby very much - I'm sure I've become a burden to her."

"Don't say that, Nathaniel," Harry said. "Alexa loves you dearly. She wants to help you, take care of you."

"She has Liam to take care of now," Nathaniel said. "Not some an old man like me, dying like this. I want her to remember me as I once was. Strong and smart, and healthy."

Nathaniel, in the end, succeeded in convincing him. And on a Saturday morning, Harry packed up mother and child and drove them to Cumbria, fulfilling Alexa's wish to see the place where her rescuer had grown up at, knowing that he was breaking MI5 rules. But then, was there a rule that said no one could visit Cumbria at all?

He received the call about Nathaniel's death from Fred Mortensen, Nathaniel's attorney and best friend the following day. But by the time Harry had managed to return to London, delayed when Liam had a very high fever that required a few hours at the local hospital for observation, Nathaniel's body had been brought to the mortuary and cremated. The memorial was set the following week which had been well-attended, and Harry, Fred and even Jools were there to extend their condolences to Alexa, and to speak at the service.  
Nathaniel George, by all accounts, had died. Each year, Harry, Alexa and Liam visited his grave on his death anniversary.

But as caught by cameras at Thames House that night, Nathaniel George was alive and well. He had also just kidnapped his grandson, Liam, brazenly signing the logbook with his real name even after he'd identified himself as Dr. Gordon Meeks, a doctor whose body had just been found two blocks away from the hospital where he worked, a bullet to the head.

Sandra Loan, the Children's Services representative who had accompanied Nathaniel to Thames House, had just been picked up three blocks away. She claimed that men were holding her family hostage in her house and that unless she did as she was told, they would kill her husband, and her two children. Even her dog.

"Who are 'they'?" Ros asked her as Sandra began to sob uncontrollably.

"Two Englishmen and two Russians," she said. "The Russians are at the house, God help me. They're going to kill my family." Her shoulders began to shake uncontrollably. "I had not choice. Please understand. I would never hurt anyone."

"We understand," Ros said, as she raised a finger to excuse herself as she answered a call. Minutes later, she returned to speak to the bereft woman.

"Miss Loan, we just heard word that your family is safe and that the men left as soon as you left Thames House. You and your family need to stay somewhere else for the night until we let you know that it's safe. Do you understand?"

The woman nodded, getting up to her feet. Ros watched as one of the junior officers escorted her out of the interrogation room. As soon as the door shut behind them, she turned to look at Harry, angry that she had been left to do everything by herself while Harry barely noticed the exchange.

"Harry, what is going on?" Ros demanded. "What did Mikhael tell you? You haven't been yourself since we got back from the hospital."

"The interrogation room is the last place for us to talk of such things, Ros," Harry said as he got up from his chair. "How is Jo?"

"Connie is with her. Other than a terrible headache, Connie says the doctor says she will be alright. I'm having her driven home as soon as she's ready."

Just then, his phone rang and Harry answered it on the second ring. It was Alexa.

Relief flooded Harry's face. "Alexa, where are you? Is Lucas with you?" He asked as he and Ros stepped out of the interrogation room and began heading towards his office.

"Where's Liam? Is he there with you? Can I talk to him?" Alexa asked, the barrage of questions barely spaced by a single pause. Her voice trembled. Something's happened, Harry thought. In the background, he heard Lucas saying something, the sound of a blinker ticking, telling Harry that they were in a car.

"Let me speak to Lucas," Harry said, ignoring Alexa's question.

In the car, Lucas slipped the earpiece on as he took the phone from Alexa's hand. "Harry," he said, his voice clipped. Traffic had built up in front of him and he wondered if he should turn off the main street and make his way through the side streets instead.

"Where are you?" Harry asked.

"We're about fifteen minutes away from you," Lucas replied. "That is, if the traffic doesn't get any worse." A few blocks ahead of them, he could see flashing lights and Lucas slowed down. "Harry, there was a kill squad after us. Do you know anything about it?"

"If there is, Malcolm hasn't caught it yet. Lucas, does Alexa have something for me?" Harry asked.

There was a pause. Then Lucas replied, "yes."

As Harry stepped into the Grid, Malcolm, who had been sitting in front of his computer peering at something, suddenly got up from his chair, an alarmed look on his face. Malcolm held up a piece of paper in front of Harry, a finger to his lips.

Someone's listening, his hastily scribbled note read.

"Lucas," Harry said as he nodded towards Malcolm. "Go to the guesthouse. I'll meet you there in twenty minutes."

As Lucas hung up, Ros turned to look at Harry. "Guesthouse?"

"Lucas and I used to meet there a long time ago. It's long been decommissioned and I doubt if anyone still remembers it now," Harry replied.

"What about CO19? We can get them to meet you there."

Harry shook his head.

Malcolm, who had been hovering the entire time, looked at Harry. "I'm going to need your authorization to change all the encryption codes, Harry," he said. "Including your phone."

"Do it," Harry said. "But there's no time for you to change any codes on my phone, Malcolm. I need to go."

"Harry, they can trace you with your phone." Malcolm said.

"Which means they've traced Lucas through his phone as well," Ros interjected. "Who else knows about the guesthouse, Harry? Other than you and Lucas? They could be waiting for you there. We can get CO19 to meet you-"

Harry shook his head. "This was just between Lucas and I," he said. Harry turned towards Malcolm.

"Lucas said they sent a kill squad after them tonight. I want you to scour everywhere for anything that smells like an order to terminate Mikhael, Lucas and Alexa. And God forbid, Liam."

Malcolm nodded and returned to his desk.

"Why a kill squad?" Ros asked.

"The only person who could find that out for us is Lucas, being the double agent he's supposed to be," Harry said wryly. "But it seems he's in no position right now to find out why."

As Harry walked towards the door, Ros took him aside. "Do you think it's Arkady who gave the order?

Maybe an insurance just in case anything happened to him? Or because of Lucas' betrayal?"

Harry sighed. "It could be," he replied. "We can't afford to ignore any possibilities."

"I'm coming with you, Harry," Ros said. "I'm not letting you go in there alone."

Just then, the doors slid open and Jools entered. Harry took a deep intake of breath, an expression of annoyance crossing his face. The head of MI6 still wore his Saville Row wool coat and impeccable suit, an umbrella in his hand. He was frowning.

"What can I do you for, Jools?" Harry asked. "I'm in a rush at the moment."

"I was in the middle of _Vissi D'arte_ when I received a call saying that my agent is dead, Harry." Jools sighed. "I'm very disappointed, to say the least. Not only because my agent is dead, but because I had to miss such a fine performance."

"It was a kill squad, Jools," Harry said. "We did what we could."

Jools turned to look at Ros, as if noticing her for the first time. "Ah, Miss Myers, I presume? Give those boys at Downing Street a taste of their own medicine for me, will you?"

"I'll do my best," Ros said stiffly. Ever since her promotion to chief of Section D, word had traveled fast and Ros knew that there were some unsettled voices among the throng of well wishes.

"Harry," Jools said, his expression suddenly serious. "We need to talk. In private."

* * *

Though Ros was not happy to be excluded from the conversation between Harry and Jools, there was nothing she could do about it. From her desk, she watched both men through the window. Though Ros had been working under Harry for about four years, she knew Jools by reputation - which was impeccable - and through Adam Carter, the former section chief of Section D.

Before Adam transferred to MI5 five years earlier on Harry's request, he'd been working under Jools at MI6. Jools had held the same position of department chief for over fifteen years, maybe longer, and everyone at Thames House knew who he was.

A blue-blooded Englishman, Jools was unabashedly patrician in his beliefs and his condescension towards those of lower standing was something that was of no surprise to anyone on the Grid. That was simply Jools Siviter. One didn't expect anything less than that.

As Ros watched both men through the window, she forced herself to look away. So many things had happened since Lucas' return and she had barely had had enough time to mull things over.

Since Adam's death, the Grid had been in overdrive, dealing with one crisis after another. Yet Ros couldn't shake the feeling that this time, something was different.

It was as if something had been set in motion as soon as Lucas returned from Russia, and with his reconnection with Alexa soon after, Ros couldn't shake the feeling that there was something much bigger than Harry was willing to admit to her or anyone on the Grid. Adam, Kachimov and Mikhael were just collateral damage.

And with Jools Siviter in the picture, Ros' suspicions were finally confirmed.

Seeing Jools at the hospital had been a shock to Ros, who had only heard about Jools through the grapevine, their departments totally different from one another. Though their missions often overlapped, both departments rarely communicated with each other.

But this time, Ros thought, it was different. This was something bigger - something none of the men wanted her or anyone else on the Grid to know about.

* * *

"It has come to my knowledge that an old friend of ours is back in the country," Jools began. "Something that does not bode well for you and me, Harry."

Harry did not say anything. He sat down on his chair and watched as Jools began to pace in front of him. He hadn't removed his coat. Harry glanced at his watch.

"Jools, is this important? I need to be somewhere in ten minutes." He began to rise from his chair.

Jools stopped his pacing and turned to look at Harry. "Arkady Kachimov is dead, Harry," he said and Harry frowned. "Did you know that?"

Harry shook his head. From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ros return her attention to something on her computer screen.

"The reason I know is because our friend sent me a photograph of the poor man in his grave," Jools said. "Now I don't care how he got there, or how who shot him the heart, poor fellow. However, Kachimov's death means that rules established in a past agreement no longer apply."

Harry sat up. "What past agreement? Between whom?"

"An agreement Kachimov and MI6 made to ensure that a mother and child be spared in place for the life of someone else, shall we say, more valuable in the long term for the Kremlin," Jools smiled wryly. "Ah, the things we men of power often have to do for love. Sometimes even when it goes against everything we believe in."

Harry's brow furrowed as he contemplated Jools' words, scarcely believing his ears. "What are you saying, Jools?"

Jools pulled up a chair and finally sat down, crossing one leg over the other as he made himself comfortable. "Nine years ago, my asset returned from Moscow damaged and pregnant - the latter I attributed to an encounter with a protege of yours, I believe, and a condition I blamed her amnesic symptoms on. If only you'd let me continue her full debrief at that time -"

"You debriefed her for over three days, Jools!" Harry countered angrily. "You forbade her sleep and food, insisting that she knew something when she didn't. It was torture and you know it. Nathaniel could have had the best attorneys at our throat, and if not, he would have exposed your methods sooner than we would have wanted."

Harry still remembered how Jools had kept Alexa in the interrogation room at Thames House, not notifying Nathaniel that they'd already had Alexa in London for the past three days. Instead, the moment Harry had arrived in London, after a quick medical check-up he'd allowed Jools to take over, not knowing what the head of MI6 would end up doing.

Hours after Harry learned about it, he made sure that there would be no more such harassment of Alexa George from Jools Siviter or anyone from MI6. All it had taken was a simple phone call to Jools' wife about the mistreatment of an English citizen, daughter of a colleague.

"Well, now that we both know that she did know something after all, Harry, don't we wish we could return to that time nine years ago and do it all over again?" Jools said sarcastically. "Depending on the outcome, she could be charged for treason."

Harry's face turned grim. "Don't you even dare, Jools," he growled. "Don't you even think about it."  
Jools brought his hands up in mock surrender. "Oh, I won't, Harry. But I have to bring up the fact that had you allowed me to interrogate her till she gave me the information I needed, none of this would ever have happened."

"Somehow I have a feeling that there's more to this than you're willing to say, Jools," Harry began. "What exactly do you mean by 'none of this would ever have happened'?"

"Why, the trade, of course!" Jools said, almost mockingly, it seemed.

"Trade? What trade?"

Jools sighed. "There was a young ambitious FSB operative named Arkady Kachimov - someone I know you know by now - and he had a grand plan. He proposed an exchange, a trade of sorts. Nathaniel George, at that time Governor of the Commission of Nuclear Energy and knowledgeable of the complexities involved in a country's rise to nuclear dominance, in exchange for keeping his family alive. Namely Alexa and Liam."

Harry stared at Jools incredulously. "You orchestrated the exchange? That's preposterous." Harry's voice was barely a whisper. "What about the cancer? His death? We were both at his memorial."

"All well planned, I'm afraid," Jools said. "I wasn't involved in the details. They almost fooled me until the day of the memorial when I saw Nathaniel in a car just outside the cemetery. A guest at his own memorial. Quite poetic, if you ask me."

"And you neglected to tell me this - why?" Harry asked.

Jools shrugged. "No one was supposed to know, Harry. Besides, I know how much Alexa means to you. It was for the best. Besides, everything seemed to have gone as planned. Nathaniel, now known as Sergei Fenix - a name that's quite appropriate for him, don't you think? - began his work as special adviser to the Russian politicians involved in advancing Russia's nuclear dominance in the world stage."

"You made him into a traitor."

"Not quite," Jools said. "Nathaniel's gift was subtlety, tact, and the ability to make it look like he's advancing something when he wasn't. It was more like a game of checks and balances, if you ask me. Two steps forward, one step back."

"Who else knew about this on our side of the pond?" Harry asked.

"While you have the Home Secretary to answer to, mine is the Foreign Secretary. We all have our masters, Harry."

"So why is Nathaniel back? And why kidnap his grandson and kill innocent civilians in the process? That's so unlike the Nathaniel you and I know."

"That's the reason why I'm here," began Jools. "To ask you the same question, Harry. Because for some reason, other than intel Nathaniel may have received that Alexa is known to have the names of Sugar Horse and even the names that she received from Oskar - names that would put Russia's plans back by decades once their moles in the UK are discovered - and believe me, I want those names, this smells a bit more, shall I say, more personal."

"Why do you say that?"

"We have a mole in this building, Harry. Maybe one, maybe more. It could be you or anyone in this office, or even mine, God forbid," Jools said as he got up from his chair and pulled something out of his coat. It was a file, or rather, a copy of a file. The folder was too new, Harry thought, the label on the front of it white as snow.

He handed it to Harry, who turned pale as he saw the label on the front of the folder cover.

Operation Imogen.

As Harry rested the file in front of him, he knew that he didn't need to see the file's contents. He'd written it himself eighteen years earlier.

The operation had been simple. Once it had been determined that one of his assets had turned her loyalties over to Russia, and was confirmed to have stolen valuable intel from a high-ranking MI5 official, Harry signed the order to have her collected before she made contact with her FSB handler and hand over the classified documents.

That she gave chase through the streets of London on that rainy night had been unexpected. Yet as Harry opened the file folder and looked at the pages in front of him, he knew that as thorough as he always was in documenting operations, there was one thing he had neglected to include.

The asset had called him in the middle of the chase.

"Tell them to back off, Harry," she said. "I'll give you what you want. Just tell them to back off. Please."

"Why should I?" Harry asked. "I trusted you. Of all people, I trusted you."

"They threatened me, Harry. I had no choice," she said. Harry could hear the honking of cars in the background. "Tell them to back off right now. I can't let your men get me like this."

"And how would you like my men to catch you?" Harry asked. "When sunning yourself at some tropical island? Laughing at me for being taken as a fool?"

"I'll walk into Thames House, Harry, I promise" she said, breathless now as more car horns blared in the background. "I need to drop her off first. She can't know. She cannot know what I've done."

Harry remembered then how he had sat up in his chair. He thought he heard someone crying in the background, in the midst of all the car horns. Mama, the voice said. Mama.

"Oh my God," he breathed.

Before the woman could say anything else, the child screamed and Harry remembered how he had gripped the sides of his desk then, as he heard the squeal of the wheels against wet pavement, the sound of metal crashing and twisting violently, and in the midst of it all, the pained shrieks of a child.

Then there was silence. Harry remembered then how a part of him had died.

"That's a copy, in case you haven't noticed," Jools was saying. "Someone walked into the archives two weeks ago and took the original file out. We have no record who did it, because it's been erased from the computer logs, and there's a gap in the surveillance cameras, which means whoever the mole is, they're high up and they're damn good."

Jools sat back down on the chair, as he added, "what a coincidence then for the timing of the original file's disappearance. And now Nathaniel is back."

Harry turned the pages of the file till he reached the page containing the photographs of the operation. In black and white, they looked as crisp and clear as the day he'd first seen them, bringing him back to the night he stood before the twisted metal frame of the car, the remains of a body that had burned in the driver seat. He remembered seeing the doll on the street a few feet away, blood encrusted in its hair and its joints and how he had picked it up, knowing to whom it belonged.

Operation Imogen.

"It's become personal, Harry," Jools said quietly. "He knows what we've done."

"Knowing you, Jools, I'm sure you took every precaution ahead of time," Harry said bitterly. "Where are Hillary and the children?"

Hillary Watt, QC was Jools' wife, a prominent barrister and was responsible for the litigation of one of Harry's former operatives, Zoe Reynolds.

"They've been on vacation the past week," Jools replied. "I've sent word for them to extend it till this is over. And you?"

Harry thought of Jane, his former wife and his two children, all grown up and living their own lives, people he'd barely spoken to in years. But he wasn't worried about them. Harry knew they were going to be alright. They were never going to be the targets.

Harry looked at Lucas' empty desk outside his office window.

"It's too late for me, Jools," he replied. "It's too late."

* * *

Alexa was nervous. There was something about sitting on the passenger seat of the car that unnerved her as she watched the glistening roads, wet with the night's rain, whizz past. Lucas was focusing on the road in front of him, turning left, then right as he maneuvered his way through the side streets that would take them to the 'guesthouse' as fast as possible. There was a determination in his actions.

Lucas said that the 'guesthouse' was a code word only he and Harry only knew about, a store front that used to house surveillance equipment close to Vauxhall Cross. It was also a place that Jools Siviter used a few times.

At the mention of Jools' name, Alexa stared at Lucas, frowning.

"You know Jools Siviter?"

Lucas shook his head. "Not personally, though everyone at Five knows who he is," he said. "He is Mikhael's boss, if what you say about him being MI6 is true."

Alexa nodded. "He doesn't know that I know what he is," she said softly, folding her long legs in front of her and hugging her knees to her chest. "But I've been around them for so long that it's second nature to spot them. Just like I spotted you the moment you walked into the club in Moscow."

"There's a way spooks carry themselves," Alexa continued. "Always wary, never letting their guard down. The good ones, at least. And then there's the eyes. Always watching for every detail, not wanting to miss a thing."

"Is that an observation gleaned from Harry himself?" Lucas asked. He shifted gears, turning into a less busier street. It had been so long since he'd last driven that it took Lucas a while to get used to the clutch. But it felt good to be behind the wheel, he thought. It felt good to be back in control.

"From my mother," Alexa replied.

Lucas looked at her quizzically. Her mother had been a housewife, he thought. "Your mother?"

"I was eight years old when I figured out what my mother did. I was ten by the time it was really clear." As Alexa spoke, she had a faraway look in her eyes. "After she died, I found her diary inside my room. She'd hidden it inside my toy chest so my father wouldn't find it. But she wasn't a spook. She was an asset, just like I was, or am, to Six."

Lucas did not say anything. His throat tightened at the idea of Mikhael having recruited her to work for him when he could have sent her back home through the British Embassy in Moscow.

"She translated foreign documents in Cologne when Harry first met her and recruited her to do simple things. Deliver documents, forge certain ones. Every single job he gave her was so exciting for her," she said, smiling. "Then she met my dad, who was working there as some type of secretary, some starting position that gave him a foothold in the Foreign Service and make his skills known. Three weeks later, they were married."

"They fell in love then," Lucas smiled as he looked at her. "It happens."

"You actually believe that?" she asked, arching an eyebrow as she eyed Lucas suspiciously but smiled, teasing. "Why do I find that so hard to believe?"

Lucas reached for her hand, squeezing it before resting it on his lap. He shrugged, grateful for the light-hearted moment between them, something that had not happened since they first met.

"It does happen, Alexa George," he laughed, and for a brief second he wanted to add something else, but stopped himself before the words slipped from his lips.

"I'll believe it when I see it, Lucas North," she said as she turned to look outside the window again, closing her eyes as she sighed. "Till then, I think I'll settle for the sex. Sometimes it's less painful that way."

"I hope you're just saying that to shock me, Alex," he said grimly. "This isn't all about sex."

Lucas released her hand to shift gears again, then touched her cheek, feeling her take a sharp intake of breath as the gesture took her by surprise and she stared at him, her eyes suddenly watering. How long had it been, she thought to herself, since someone had touched her in that way?

_It does happen, Alexa. Falling in love_, Lucas wanted to tell her.

Suddenly a white Range Rover appeared in the rearview mirror and before Lucas could step on the gas to speed up, it barreled into them, the sound of crunching metal filling the air. As Lucas fought hard to grip the wheel, struggling to control the car as the Range Rover slammed into them again, the Lexus spun wildly across the street.

Alexa froze, her eyes wide as she watched Lucas grip the steering wheel, the muscles of his forearms tensing from the effort of keeping the car under control. As she straightened her legs in front of her she turned to see the white Range Rover rushing towards her side of the car as if in slow motion.

It was like something from a dream, she thought, as she looked at the car plate closing in on them, the combination of numbers and letters bringing her back to one night a long time ago.

Fear gripped her heart as Alexa screamed, realizing that she had seen that car plate before.

She'd seen it the night her mother died.


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Kudos and BBC. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter deals with scenes that may be disturbing to some readers. It refers to the Darshavin/Lucas scene in Spooks/MI5 Season 8.4. _**

* * *

From the corner of the room, Lucas heard the constant dripping of water, a leaky faucet somewhere in the darkness. He was alone. And as he struggled to wake up, his body screaming from pain, he realized that he was bound to a chair, his shoulders held back tightly. He grimaced, the sound of his groans slicing through the silence only broken by the water drops onto the floor.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness, a feeling slowly coming to him. Something so familiar. His skin prickled. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

He swallowed, aware that his mouth was dry. Slowly, the shallow breaths came as panic slowly crept through his very being. He knew this place, he thought, though physically he'd never been here before. But he knew of the sense of the place. For he'd been there many times before, too many to count now.

The memories shattered through the barriers of his consciousness, fragments that splintered before his mind's eye. As Lucas struggled to regain a sense of himself, some form of control, the first thing he saw then was the memory of the white Range Rover barreling into the car.

He remembered reaching his arm out as if to protect Alexa beside him, knowing it was useless to do so. The Lexus careened out of control and Lucas fought to regain hold of the steering wheel, gripping it as tightly as he could even as he felt the car skid across the narrow street and slam against something hard. The sound of twisting metal, its horrible crunching noises filled his ears, and suddenly everything turned white.

The air bags, he thought. They had deployed.

And then silence.

But another sound came to his ears, and this time Lucas bolted upright on the chair, searching the darkness for its source. _Mummy_, it said. A child's voice. _Mummy, wake up._

Every muscle in his body tensed. Alexa and Liam were in another room. He waited for another voice to answer, praying that she would say something as Liam's voice, faint through the walls, returned.

"Mummy, wake up."

But there was silence.

Lucas began to breathe rapidly again, puffs of steam coming from his mouth as he fought hard to control himself from slipping into his past again, telling himself he was alright. He could not return there, he thought. He could not allow himself to be back there, not now when he needed to be present. Not now.

But the memory returned anyway, too fast for Lucas to stop it. It was as vivid as the day it had happened.

And within seconds, he was back there.

* * *

It was another world, another hell, where he wanted nothing more than to die but even death did not want him at all.

His screams reverberated throughout the room, its white tiles now darkened with grime and age. The flashes of light inside his head brought about by the pain, the burning that begun deep within as the electricity coursed through his body made him cry out for death again and again, sobbing like a child.

How many times a day he had to go through this, Lucas could no longer remember.

What he did remember was that on the days when he wasn't dragged from his cell, he found himself craving it, yes, even the pain. For it made him feel alive, that even after all those years of being forgotten by the ones he believed in, he still had a purpose.

But today was different. Today, his mind said no more. His soul cried out, no more.

For the first time in the eight years he'd spent at Lushanka prison, set amidst miles and miles of marshland as far as the eye could see, Lucas only wanted to go home. He wanted nothing more than to set his foot back in England, his home, and be free again.

After all, wasn't that what this particular interrogation was all about? The men sitting behind the spotlights trained at him were asking him if he wanted to be set free, that it was possible. This time, there were no questions about Sugarhorse at all. Though sometimes they tortured him just to do it.

This particular interrogation was different from anything else he'd gone through in the past. Did he want to go home? The men behind the spotlight only wanted to hear him say yes, and nothing more. And as the latest surge of electricity snaked through his body like a thousand threads, burning paths that sent him over the edge, Lucas knew that this time they would get the answer they wanted.

He could not take anymore of the pain, the torture and the humiliation.

Ice cold water was suddenly poured over him and Lucas felt the hands that had held him upright on the chair let go just as the next surge of electricity traveled through his body and he screamed as he always did.

But this time, he said something. This time he told them what they wanted to hear.

"What did you say?" His interrogator asked after his sobbing subsided.

He'd held off for so long, too proud, too loyal to his country. But this time, he would do it, Lucas told them in Russian, though in his heart, he knew all wanted was to return home.

Suddenly the interrogator walked away from Lucas. He disappeared in the darkness behind the spotlight that had been trained on him the entire time since the interrogation session had begun almost an hour earlier.

As Lucas sat naked and bound on the chair, shivering, he heard the whispers behind the spotlight. Hot tears spilled down his face as Lucas realized the magnitude of what he was about to do. Eight years he'd held off. But it had been eight years too long.

"Are you sure of this, Lucas?" Asked Arkady from behind the light as he walked towards Lucas, bending down to look at the broken man shivering on the chair. "Is this what you really want to do? Because there is no turning back from this decision."

Lucas nodded, water droplets clinging to his greasy hair, his skin shaking from the chill in the air or the burning deep inside his body from the electrical shocks he could not tell anymore. "Yes," he replied.

Arkady sighed, smiling faintly. "I've been waiting for that answer a very long time, Lucas. You know how much I hate doing this to you." Arkady ran a hand across Lucas' greasy hair, like a father placating a child.

Lucas said nothing.

His interrogator had stepped aside now, gathering all his implements and returning them into the cart that he had brought in with him. With a slight nod towards Lucas, like an old friend bidding him good-bye, he turned and walked out of the room. There was a sense of disappointment about his countenance as he looked back at Lucas just before the door shut behind him.

Someone else moved from behind the spotlight and Lucas looked up, straining his eyes to see who it was. A man stepped from the light and pulled up a chair, setting it in front of Lucas and sat down. He was dressed in a dark suit that was immaculately tailored, his thick white hair combed neatly on his head. Lucas thought he looked familiar but he wondered if this was part of a hallucination, brought about by the pain.

"I want to get this clear, Lucas," said the unidentified man in front of him. "What is it that you finally agree to do for us?"

"I'll do it," Lucas gasped. "I'll spy for you, for Russia."

"You finally see the light, Lucas," Arkady said, pulling up a chair and sitting on the other side of him.

"Seeing you suffer for people who have forgotten you hurts me so. In many ways, I am glad you finally see that they never cared for you."

Arkady pulled out a handkerchief and gently wiped away the sweat that had gathered on Lucas' brow, wiping the moisture from his face. Lucas closed his eyes, realizing it had been a very long time since he'd felt any kind of tenderness, even if it came from an interrogator like Arkady.

He nodded, hanging his head as he avoided Arkady's gaze, the man's gentle strokes along his face making Lucas more ashamed for his weakness. But Arkady was right. It had been too long since he'd waited for someone to come and get him. And no one had.

"Yes," he whispered. "I'll spy for you."

Arkady folded the damp handkerchief and put it aside. "This is Sergei, Lucas," he said, gesturing towards the other man in the immaculate suit. There was something regal in the man's bearing that made him stand out, Lucas thought. "You must do a few things for him, as part of your release. It shall serve as one of the conditions of your, shall we say, freedom. And I advise you to listen carefully, yes?"

"Your parents are Marcus and Jane North from Cumbria, yes?" Sergei began immediately. "Just nod, Lucas. You don't need to say anything just yet. Just listen and nod your head when you understand what I'm saying."

Lucas nodded.

Sergei continued. "We have been keeping a close eye on your parents, Lucas. Your father is quite a popular minister, though I hear he's close to retiring, maybe in a year or two. They are our insurance policy to ensure us that you'll do what you're supposed to do once you're free."

Lucas said nothing. He looked down at his bare feet, thinking how his nails needed a trim. He didn't want to think about his parents. They didn't even know that he worked for MI5.

"But of course, after you do what I specifically want you to do, I guarantee you that I will leave them alone," Sergei said. "It's a promise I intend to keep, and Mr. Kachimov knows that and he will honor it."

Arkady nodded his head in agreement and took over. "Upon your return to London, you will live like you always have - with one difference. You will live as if your friends are your enemies and your enemies are your friends. That will be the life for you from now on, Lucas."

Lucas nodded.

"Nine years ago," Arkady continued. "We lost something quite valuable to us. I'm sure you have heard about it. Valuable information was stolen by a double agent called Oskar Millivic. Oskar the Ferret, as he was called. In fact, I believe you were in Moscow at the same time, on a mission set up by Section D."

Lucas did remember. Harry had sent him to Moscow in search of Alexa George, then eighteen years old, a British national, but most of all a daughter of a former ambassador and Harry's own godchild. He was there unofficially, which meant Lucas had to be very careful. There would be no one to vouch for him should anything go wrong.

At the same time, something huge had gone wrong for the Russians, for Lucas and every non-Russian operative in Moscow were suddenly grounded, unable to move throughout the city. Lucas remembered the body count of suspected operatives rising. Four, to be exact, with Oskar the Ferret being one of them.

Then after the bodies surfaced, every one of them assassinations, everything in Moscow returned to normal. Three weeks later, Lucas would find Alexa based on a tip, a note left for him at the front desk of his hotel.

"We have finally learned that the information we lost nine years earlier is in London, and you are going to get it for us." Arkady smiled. "The timing couldn't be any more perfect than this, Lucas. You should be home just in time for - what is that celebration called in your country - yes, Remembrance Day."

This time, the man named Sergei began to speak again. "The information we need is contained in a thumb drive. You need to retrieve it from Alexa George, someone you already know, I believe."

At the mention of her name, Lucas looked up, startled. For a moment he struggled to remember her face and slowly, she appeared to him. Her eyes, Lucas thought, were the color of emeralds, a deep green with dark depths that seemed to stare right through him. He remembered her hands around his neck, holding onto him and his face grew warm at the memory of what had happened between them.

"Yes, you remember her, don't you, Lucas?" Asked Sergei, his voice turning cold. "You need to collect that thumb drive from her. Wine her, dine her, do whatever you need to do to get it back to us. Keep her alive until we tell you otherwise. Do you understand?"

Lucas nodded.

Arkady and Sergei got up and walked towards the door. The conversation was over.

"Remember what I said, Lucas," Sergei said. "You will be watched very carefully when you return to London and we will contact you about the girl with further instructions once you collect what we need."

Someone finally cut the ropes that bound Lucas to the chair and he pitched forward towards the cold tile floor, his body too weak to stop himself from falling.

Lucas closed his eyes as he heard the door slam shut. The guard that had remained behind with Lucas moved the two chairs back to the area behind the spotlight and after seeing that Lucas was not about to get up off the floor anytime soon, stepped out, leaving him alone in the cold and dank room, the chair from which he was sitting on still where it was.

Lucas could smell his own fear lingering in the air. He felt the shame creep through his body again as he realized what he had done. After eight years of keeping his faith as intact as he could, his belief that one day Harry Pearce would come for him, Lucas had finally given up. His body could take no more of the beatings and the interrogations, the humiliation and the shame.

In the stillness of the room, Lucas' eyes rested on the white sheet that had been folded neatly on the desk. He recognized it immediately, his body stiffening.

Oleg Darshavin, his interrogator for the last four years, and the same man who had subjected him to the electrical shocks earlier, always brought a sheet with him into the room, ready to unfold it and lay it over Lucas' trembling shoulders when the electric shocks subsided, pressing it against his skin to blot off the perspiration, giving him that momentary sense of comfort.

But before the trembling of his body finished its course, Oleg would strip it off him and lay it on the metal bed frame on the far corner of the room where he'd order Lucas to kneel.

Suddenly Lucas felt the rage replace the shame he had felt just minutes earlier, his entire body shaking as he struggled to lift himself off the floor. Oleg had not been able to finish his interrogation this day, Lucas thought, and as he looked towards the door, hearing faint voices speaking outside, his body began to tremble again, the rage suddenly replaced by fear.

Oleg would return and this time, he would not need the tray with all his implements. This time, Oleg used his hands and his body on Lucas. Nothing would ever change.

"No," Lucas whispered. "Not anymore."

Trembling, he got to his feet. Taking the sheet, Lucas began to tear it into strips, aware of the weakness in his limbs, his hands shaking as he tied the strips together, pulling them taut so they would not come undone when it was all over.

He looked up, seeing the exposed pipes just above the ceiling tiles that should have been there, but weren't. This was after all, just the interrogation room. There was no need to spruce things up or do repairs when it wasn't necessary.

Lucas climbed over the chair and looped the long strips over the thickest pipe, tying it in one of the sailor knots his father had taught him when he was just a boy, walking along the Thames estuary watching the birds fly overhead.

He tugged at it once, twice and to be sure, a third time. It held. Lucas made a loop on the other end, just wide enough for his head to slip through. He glanced towards the door again, his legs suddenly weak, his knees threatening to give way beneath him. A moment of indecision crossed his mind.

But it had to be done, Lucas thought. _He would not be remembered as a traitor. He could not allow it._

Lucas slipped his head through the loop, aware that the voices outside the door had faded, knowing that any minute now, Oleg would come in and do what he always did after sessions like this. But Lucas shut his eyes, wanting nothing more of the perversions that haunted the FSB head interrogator.

His whole body shook at what he was about to do, his toes gripping the edge of the chair below him, ready to step beyond its edge. _God, forgive me,_ he whispered to no one in particular. _Please understand why I have to do this._

Lucas stepped off the chair just as the door opened and Oleg yelled his name. Lucas suddenly felt the man's arms around his waist as Oleg held him up just as the chair clattered onto its side.

All strength left him then. He was too weak to fight Oleg and the other guards who streamed inside the room, one of them pulling the chair upright so that Oleg could sit him down, his arms still holding Lucas tightly.

"No, Lucas," Oleg whispered in his ear. "Not like this. You cannot end it like this. Not when you will soon be free."

But Lucas knew he would never be free. He would never be free of the hell that now lived within him. For now he was a traitor as well, and just as Arkady said to him earlier, this was going to be the life he would live from now on.

It was the life of someone already dead.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Kudos and BBC. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

The two black cars arrived at the scene at the same time. From the first car, Harry stepped out and rushed towards the twisted remains of the black Lexus wrapped around the light pole.

"Sweet Jesus," he whispered, his eyes frantically scanning the area now filled with emergency personnel and field operatives from both MI5 and MI6. This was going to be a bloody mess, he thought, turning around to see Jools emerging from the other car, scowling.

But before Jools could join Harry, one of the men guarding the area approached him and said something.

"You've picked up the signal then?" Jools asked.

His field officer nodded. "Yes, sir. It's about ten miles from here."

"Good," Jools said. "Get the team out there and get me on the phone as soon as the team is in place. Await my signal."

As the officer left, Jools walked over towards Harry.

"We missed them by minutes," Harry said, frustration growing in his voice. "He's always been one step ahead of us, Jools."

"It must be someone on the inside, Harry," Jools said. "That's the only explanation."

"I trust everyone on my team with my life, Jools," Harry said, suddenly defensive.

"Including Lucas North?" Jools asked.

Harry looked at Jools, anger flashing in his eyes. "Especially him," he replied. "He's proven his worth to me, and I do not doubt his loyalty."

Jools shrugged. "Then we need to start from the beginning and suspect everyone to be a mole. It's the only thing I can honestly think of. This was exactly the information Six has been after for the last twenty years, since we planted our deep covers in Russia."

Harry's face colored. "You're the one who agreed to trade a high-ranking British official knowledgeable in nuclear energy affairs to the Russians, Jools," Harry said angrily. "I can't even begin to see the logic in that kind of thinking, so don't get me started -"

"For the record, I did not mastermind that trade, Harry," Jools countered. "I merely gave my blessing as I had no choice. It was either that or Alexa was dead, plain and simple. And you know how our wonderful government really doesn't give a fig about anyone, Harry, so consider that a royal favor that she and Liam lived."

Suddenly Ros stood between both men, her face hard and looking a bit annoyed. "Excuse me, Harry, I need to talk to you," she said, ignoring Jools and guiding Harry away from him as calmly as she could. She'd had enough of Jools Siviter for one night, she thought. It was time to get to work.

"Malcolm just called," Ros said, keeping her voice low. "He's tracked the signal from Lucas' phone to a warehouse about ten miles away. We should get going, Harry, before we lose it."

Harry turned to look at Jools, wanting to say more to the man but he stopped, feeling Ros' hand on his elbow.

"It's not the time or the place, Harry," she said, her grip on his elbow tightening. "You can burn your bridges after this is all over. We just lost Adam and we can't afford to lose anyone else."

Harry nodded and together they hurried to the car. Ros was right, he thought, glad that there was someone who was still able to see things objectively for Harry knew he'd lost that ability the moment he walked into Alexa's flat that morning.

He felt like he'd been thrown into a game whose rules he had not yet been informed of. For the first time in a very long time, Harry felt lost, not knowing what to do next. This was all too personal, he thought to himself as Ros started the car and they drove away.

But as Harry looked outside the window, the remains of the Lexus vivid in his mind's eye, he knew he could not lie to himself or anyone else any longer. Of course it was personal, he thought.

It always had been.

Lucas was working his wrists back and forth against the rope that bound them together when the door burst open and three men walked in. He'd forced himself to ignore the pain, for he knew that he was running out of time.

In the next room, he could hear Liam talking, coaxing Alexa to wake, and for a brief moment, Lucas thought he heard her groan and say something back. Please, be alright, Lucas thought out loud, his wrists still working back and forth, pulling his hand slightly through one loop just as two of the men, both FSB operatives, stood on either side of Lucas while the third one remained standing a few feet away.

As Lucas looked up at the third man, he recognized him immediately. Sergei, the man who had watched his final interrogation at Lushanka a few weeks earlier.

Sergei Fenix, the man formerly known as Nathaniel George, smiled at him. The Oxford-educated man pulled up a chair and sat down in front of Lucas, leaning his elbows on his knees. He had sharp aquiline features, his thick gray hair perfectly combed on his head and his suit, as always, was expertly tailored. Lucas smelled the faint hint of cologne.

"We had an agreement, Lucas," Nathaniel said softly in Russian. "I trusted you to fulfill your part of it."

"And I have," Lucas replied, his eyes steadily holding Nathaniel's gaze. "I have what you want."

"Really now?" Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. "Pray tell, where is it?"

His men had searched Lucas and Alexa when they pulled them out of the car but claimed they didn't find the thumb drive. But then, Nathaniel thought, a thumb drive was quite small, and such things could easily be hidden.

And the men had been pressed for time, having had to work within a small window of opportunity before emergency personnel would have arrived at the scene of the accident.

They had pulled Lucas and Alexa out of the wreckage and while Lucas regained consciousness minutes later in the Range Rover, only to be knocked right out with a hit to the head, Alexa had not awoken.

"Where are Alexa and Liam?" Lucas demanded.

"They're in the next room," Nathaniel replied. "They are both safe, I promise you. But before I let you see them, I need a few answers, Lucas."

"Why don't you untie me so we can converse like real men? What are you afraid of?"

Nathaniel gave an order in Russian to the two men, who immediately left the room, leaving them both alone. He studied Lucas' face before him, gaunt and pale, remnants of his years in Lushanka where his time outside had been limited to less than an hour each day - if the day was fair.

But in his eyes, Nathaniel saw something he hadn't seen when he had last looked upon Lucas' face. Rage, Nathaniel thought. It burned. And it burned brightly.

"I used to be afraid of everything," Nathaniel began, leaning back against the chair. This time he spoke in perfect English, his accent catching Lucas by surprise. "I used to think my intellect was big enough for any challenge thrown at me, I really did. But one day, I realized that my intellect was no match for certain things - like betrayal and the games people play with one another. Deception among friends and the ones you love the most."

Lucas stared at him, trying to comprehend the meaning behind the words he had just spoken. There was something familiar about him, Lucas thought.

"You don't remember me, do you?" Nathaniel asked. "Even in Russia, you never did recognize me and I'm quite disappointed, Lucas, although with Arkady in the same room with us, I have to admit, I was grateful for your ignorance. But you, of all people, should have remembered me." Nathaniel got up from the chair and began to pace the room. He stopped and faced Lucas. "After all, it's not everyday that someone thanks you for risking your life to save his daughter."

This time, Lucas looked at him with narrowed eyes, as he worked hard to remember where he may have seen the man's face. And as the man paced before him, the realization came slowly, the memory of a meeting so brief it was over in the blink of an eye.

_"I don't normally do this, Lucas," Harry said, his voice a mere whisper against his ear as he leaned towards Lucas who had just arrived from the airport and was merely coming into Section D to file his report, a report that had nothing to do with the real reason of his trip. Besides, as chief operative at the time, Lucas needed to be briefed about what his team had been doing since he'd been away._

_"But he insisted," Harry said stiffly as he steered Lucas towards a tall blonde man with streaks of gray that framed his face, his eyes hollow and making him look older than his years, his shoulders hunched forward. But as he saw Lucas approaching, his face broke into a smile, his eyes twinkling._

_"Lucas, this is Nathaniel George, governor of the Commission of Nuclear Energy," Harry said. "Nathaniel, this is Lucas North."_

_Nathaniel gripped Lucas' hand firmly before pulling him into a deep embrace. "Thank you," Nathaniel whispered. "Thank you."_

_I was only doing my duty, Lucas wanted to say but as he pulled away to gaze at the older man, whose eyes glistened with tears, Lucas felt himself steered away again. Harry, his face forcing a smile, said, "Your team is waiting for you at the Grid, Lucas."_

_This was, after all, against protocol, Lucas thought as he understood what Harry was trying to tell him. They could not linger too long, standing there in the lobby of Thames House, for everyone to see, and make the possible conclusions as to the mysterious arrival of the frail, broken girl a week earlier._

"I don't understand," Lucas said almost to himself as the realization hit him hard.

How could the man who had expressed such gratitude in his eyes nine years ago, the torture of not knowing where his daughter was all that time, his body betraying his despair, be the very same person who had watched him being tortured just a few weeks earlier?

Most of all, how could a dead man come back to life?

When Lucas had returned from Russia, after he spotted Alexa on the street, he'd read up on her file. Nathaniel George had died of cancer a year or so later, he thought. It had been documented. He'd seen the photographs of the funeral. Harry had been there, Alexa standing next to him with a baby in her arms. Liam.

As if reading his mind, Nathaniel continued talking. "Oh, my gratitude to you was real, Lucas. I wanted nothing more than to thank you for getting my daughter back - that I want you to remember most of all - for she was the most precious thing to me."

"Was?" Lucas asked. "What are you trying to say? Is she-?"

"Oh, she's alive, Lucas. She's hurt, but unless you work with me and give me what I want, she won't survive the night."

"How can you do this to your own daughter? Alexa loves you."

"Like I said, Lucas," Nathaniel said wistfully. "She was the most precious thing to me, even when she decided to have that bastard - your bastard - she was still precious to me. So when Arkady came to me and said that unless I worked for the Russians in exchange for her life, I agreed."

"You faked your death? Did Alexa know that?"

"Of course not," Nathaniel snapped. "That would mean she was complicit with every thing that's happened since. But no. She has no idea that I loved her so much that I gave my life for her and Liam. Arkady said if I worked for the Russians, he'd make sure nothing would happen to her."

Suddenly Nathaniel laughed bitterly. "But do you know what happened, Lucas, when I approached good friends in the government who could have helped me and save my family?"

"Instead of helping me, they said it was a splendid idea. Like my wife, I could spy for the Russians, pretend to help them work towards their nuclear aspirations, and maybe give them information back, or even better, work in sabotaging Russia's plans."

"They turned you," Lucas whispered.

"Yes, just like they turned my wife and Alexa. A family of spies, Lucas," Nathaniel chuckled but there was no humor in his voice. "Isn't that the most incredulous thing you've ever heard?"

"Alexa's mother was a spy?" Lucas asked as he slowly pulled his left wrist free, fighting the urge to tackle the older man. There were still the two operatives outside their door, with guns probably aimed at Alexa and Liam.

"But she was more like an asset," Nathaniel replied. "A spy would mean she'd have been like you, but no, she was just an asset. She was an MI5 asset before I met her, working under Harry Pearce, and she became an asset shortly before she died, but this time for the Russians. For they'd turned her when we were living in the Ukraine."

He shrugged. "Maybe they threatened her with killing me or Alexa, I'll never know, but I could never forgive her for her treachery. I even killed her for it."

Nathaniel sighed, shaking his head. "But then look at me now, Lucas. Now I'm no better than she was, working for the Russians. I'm nothing but a traitor now."

"Then redeem yourself, Nathaniel," Lucas said. "Let Alexa and Liam go."

"First tell me where the thumb drive is," Nathaniel ordered. "Let's finish this farce once and for all."

"And then what?" Lucas spat. "So you continue on with your treachery? Did you send the kill squad for us? The bombs on the ship, the sniper? Were you behind it all?"

Just then, Nathaniel's phone beeped from inside his coat pocket. He retrieved it and looked at the display, reading a text message that had just arrived. He sighed and looked at Lucas again. This time there was a sense of urgency in his voice.

"No, Lucas," he replied. "I wasn't behind that. But you could say that I'm here now for revenge. Revenge for the life I had to give up. Revenge for being betrayed by the ones you trusted. You do know how that feels, don't you?"

Before Lucas could answer, Nathaniel walked towards the door, opened it and gave an order. Suddenly Liam was brought in and Lucas drew a sharp intake of breath, his body tensing. The boy looked pale, his eyes wide and as he saw Lucas, he made a move to run towards him but the man behind him held him back.

"You can't do this," Lucas shouted, suddenly speaking in Russian to Nathaniel. He did not want the child to understand what was happening. "He's just a child!"

"Then where is it? Where is the thumb drive that Alexa stole from Russia nine years ago?" Nathaniel demanded, his voice rising. "I don't have enough time, Lucas." As he spoke, the man standing behind Liam pulled out a gun and cocked it.

The sound made Liam begin to turn his head to look back but Lucas called his name sternly.

"Liam, look at me," Lucas ordered and Liam did as he was told, not speaking. "Keep looking at me, alright?" Liam nodded, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he kept his eyes on Lucas. "Do as I say and everything will be alright."

Without turning to look at Nathaniel, Lucas said, "It's in my boot. The left one."

The second man suddenly entered the room, as if he'd been standing outside the door awaiting instructions, and he quickly undid Lucas' boot. Within seconds, he held up a thumb drive between his fingers.

"You better pray it's the one Alexa brought back from Moscow, Lucas," Nathaniel said. "You cannot afford to play games anymore."

"I never play games, Nathaniel," Lucas said coldly, his eyes still holding Liam's own.

Without a word, the man left the room and stepped outside where a gray haired woman waited with a small computer tablet to which she quickly inserted the thumb drive into. She was on a tight schedule and only had a few minutes before she'd be able to drive away unnoticed by a cavalry of security operatives rushing to the warehouse.

The screen powered up, revealing rows of names, locations and codes, yellow print against the gray background. She scrolled through it silently, her brow furrowed in concentration as she scanned the information. Satisfied, she looked up at the FSB operative and nodded, turning off the tablet computer and slipping the thumb drive into her pants pocket.

"Все кончено." It's over, she whispered. Tiresias was safe.

As she turned to walk away, she looked back at the man. "They're on their way. You need to get out as soon as possible."

The man nodded and watched Connie James leave through the back door of the warehouse where her car idled. At the sound of her car driving away, the man went to the other room where Alexa had lain earlier, pulling out a gun from his holster.

Though Nathaniel George appeared to be in charge of this operation, the FSB operative still had his orders. Arkady must have known that he wasn't going to survive the first few weeks of his new appointment as chief operative in London, for he'd set up a few contingencies should anything happen to him.

And just as Arkady had anticipated, something did happen to him, hence the contingencies taking place now.

First had been the bomb and the sniper attack at the Mekanik Rada cargo ship designed to kill Mikhael and Alexa, and then the kill squads, one group sent to the hospital, and the other to Alexa's building. And though most had not returned alive, two more remained to make sure that the order would be completed. That would be him and the other man holding Liam in the next room.

The man felt sorry for the boy, for he had never been part of the plan, but Nathaniel had been foolish enough to grab Liam, thinking he'd need the boy to get to Alexa and Lucas. And now it was too late. They were running out of time and the job had to be completed.

The boy would simply be collateral damage. For such things happened, no matter how careful you plan your moves.

As for Nathaniel George - well, Arkady had ordered his death, too. For the man known as Sergei Fenix, after eight years of serving Russia, had finally outlived his usefulness.

And Arkady Kachimov, always the spy master, never failed to plan his moves way ahead. Even in death.


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Kudos and BBC. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Harry spotted the two men before Ros did, and knew right away that Jools had sent them, just as Malcolm had suspected. They were sitting in a dark sedan parked just outside the opened wire gate, its padlock hanging open. As Ros drove in, turning off the headlights, they could see the two buildings and just beyond it, the refinery.

A black Range Rover and a black car were parked side by side next to first building, probably the office building of what was once an oil refinery that had long since closed down its operations and moved to its new home a few miles away. These days, it was a haven for graffiti artists, their artwork splashed in just about every inch of bare walls, mostly metal pillars and drums.

As Ros had driven the ten miles back to Purfleet, just hours after she'd left it that afternoon, through the quiet streets of the town slowly waking with the coming of dawn, Harry listened as Malcolm relayed the details of the phone's signal just before it had disappeared.

"It's the old Gordon Refinery that closed down years ago," Malcolm said. "There are two office buildings in the property and the refinery facility itself."

"Thank you, Malcolm," Harry said as he glanced at his watch. Dawn was fast approaching and he could see the cars filling the streets, workers heading for the main refinery a few miles ahead. "You should head home."

"I think I'll wait here, sir," Malcolm said. "I'll monitor the communications in the area. I understand Six sent some men over."

"Really?" Harry wasn't surprised. Knowing Jools, he was going to cover his tracks and make sure there would be no trace of Nathaniel George having been back in England. Nathaniel would be proof of the nontraditional arrangement they had been set up years before, and Harry was certain that it was an operation that Jools would not want on his record. Not after this.

"Keep me abreast then, if anything new comes up."

"Yes, sir," Malcolm said before Harry hung up.

Outside the air was bone-chilling cold and Harry pulled up his coat collar above his neck to ward off the chill. As he and Ros walked towards the first building, he could feel unseen eyes watching him. Jools' men, Harry thought.

"How many do you think?" Ros asked, breaking the silence between them.

"Maybe two, possibly four," Harry answered. "But I can't be sure."

"Should we be worried about Jools?"

Harry shook his head. "We should be fine, Ros, unless Jools has something bigger than Nathaniel George that he's hiding from me. Which I doubt."

Ros turned to look at him, surprised though the expression faded from her face as soon as the information sank in. "How come I'm not surprised," she said wryly as she pulled out her gun from her holster and walked ahead of Harry the moment they closed in the distance between them and the cars.

The cars were empty, frost gathering upon the windows. As Ros turned the corner towards the doorway, she stepped on something and looked down. It was a phone. She picked it up and turned it on.

Lucas.

Pocketing it in her pants, Ros moved ahead of Harry, and stopped just before the back door. She cocked her head towards the ground, where a sliver of light was visible beneath the door frame.

Harry took a deep breath, steam forming in front of his face. He wished he had back up, but knew that it was too late to call for one. Though Ros didn't say it out loud, Harry knew that she considered this too personal for Harry to be objective about. He should have been clear-minded enough to request back up for something such as this. But now was not the time for wishful thinking, Harry thought.

Now was simply a time to act, even if it meant it would be just him and Ros.

* * *

For the three men and the little boy inside the room, time seemed to stand still. Nathaniel continued to stand a few feet away from Lucas, still sitting on the metal chair with his hands behind his back, while Liam stood with his back against a tall blonde man who went by the name of Yuri.

Yuri had arrived in London with his brother Goren, who had just left the room with the thumb drive he hoped contained the information they had come here for. Their job had been to escort the man known as Sergei Fenix to London and make sure that he got the thumb drive before MI5 did.

It had been such a coup, the new intel that Arkady had relayed about the thumb drive having been found to be in the hands of the girl they'd allowed to get away years earlier. What had been the search for Sugarhorse in the beginning, one that would have allowed FSB to uncover every mole within the Russian government had turned into the recovery of Tiresias, Russia's even grander plans for England, that had fallen in the wrong hands.

But until they were certain that they did have Tiresias, all contained in a thumb drive that had been hidden for so long, it was a waiting game. And as he stood there with his gun trained at the boy's head, Yuri waited patiently, hearing the faint sound of a computer beeping just outside the door. A few minutes later, he heard the sound of the back door opening and closing and then silence.

She would be first, Yuri thought, wondering if it would even be necessary to shoot the girl as she had been unresponsive when they pulled her out of the wreckage. That she didn't wake up in the next room told him that she probably wasn't going to make it through the night.

She was pale, her skin cold and clammy, when he last looked in on her. Even Sergei said that she may have had suffered some internal damage and would not make it for long. But Goren would still have his orders, as did Yuri, who now eyed Lucas intently, realizing the man's gaze had moved from the boy to him.

Lucas North was watching him like a hawk.

* * *

The lightbulb flickered just before she heard it pop, its filament burning out as the room plunged into darkness. Alexa was cold, and she shivered as she struggled to move her body from her side, landing on her back with a groan. She waited till her eyes got used to the darkness and looked around.

She reached for Liam but he was gone. How did he get here? She couldn't remember anything after the car crash, waking up only after hearing Liam calling her name again and again, shaking her shoulders, his little hands stroking her hair, his lips against her cheek.

"Mummy, wake up," he had begged her again and again. "Please, mummy."

When she finally willed herself to wake up, she found that she did not have the strength to get up, pain coursing through her body with each move she made. Alexa wanted to scream and curse, but she held her tongue, instead forcing herself to smile weakly as she held him and told him to be strong.

She was tired, her body burning with a pain she'd never felt before. The impact of the Range Rover had yanked her sideways first, before slamming her body towards the front of the car, only the air bags stopping the momentum of her body.

And though Alexa had no recollection of how she got here, in this dirty room, something told her that this time, there may no be no way out of her predicament. Their predicament.

As she reached out for Liam, stroking his hair and telling him that they were going to be alright, she forced herself to believe her own words, wondering where Lucas was and hoping that he was alright. For the first time in a long time, she wanted his help, knowing that this time, she was in no position to help herself.

Liam began telling her how grandpa had picked him up from Thames House, saying that she'd be there waiting for him. But as he peered at her, seeing the bruises that dotted her jaw, the reddish purple splotches along her chest, he asked, "what happened to you, mummy?"

And so Alexa lied, forcing a smile. "Mummy was pretty clumsy today, love," she whispered. "I fell down the stairs and daddy and I got into a nasty accident."

When Liam began to cry, she held him. "But I'm fine now, love. You're here."

But even Liam saw through her lies for Alexa knew her lip quivered as she spoke, her fear breaking through the tough facade she struggled to maintain around him. Besides, I must look like shit, she thought to herself.

"They have daddy in the next room," Liam continued. "Grandpa said he had to talk to him alone for awhile."

Liam's words seemed to fade in and out of her consciousness as the throbbing in her back returned, her neck and shoulders burning with a pain that seemed to emanate from deep within. She was running a fever. "Liam, I want you to listen to your daddy, okay?" she said. "Do whatever he tells you to do. Do you understand me?"

She looked about the room and noticed that he had some toys to play with along one corner, and a soiled mattress to lay on. Alexa felt the anger rise as she began to look closely about the room, remembering how her little boy suddenly seemed old as he looked at her with worry all over his face.

But something Liam said made her look at him again, her focus returning as the pain subsided. _Wait, what grandpa?_

"The man in the pictures, mummy," he replied when she asked him. "The one you tell me loves me very much even though he's in heaven?"

Alexa frowned. Liam must have gotten confused, she thought. Her father had died years earlier. She had buried his ashes herself.

"Liam, no matter what happens, I want you to trust daddy, okay? I want you do as he says." She squeezed his shoulders, exhaustion threatening to take her away again. She held him till she fell asleep again, unaware that she hadn't moved from her original position since the men had carelessly lain her on the floor hours earlier.

Awake again, Alexa cursed under her breath as she willed her body to move this time. Liam was gone and she was alone. She pushed herself up to a sitting position and as she did so, she heard Lucas' voice sternly ordering Liam to look at him from the next room.

Suddenly every muscle on Alexa's body tightened as she flattened her back against the wall, her ear straining to listen as Lucas told Liam to do everything he said. But then another voice filled the air as Alexa brought her ear against the wall, and this time she frowned, confused. She remembered what Liam had said, just before she fainted. The man in the pictures, mummy.

She knew that voice. Her mind struggled with the realization of who the man was, confusion filling every corner of her mind as she replayed her father's last days, his body so gaunt and frail. It was cancer that had claimed him, she thought. But as she heard his voice through the wall, something told her that nothing had claimed him then. It had all been a lie.

Alexa looked about her, scanning the room in the darkness, seeking outlines and familiar shapes. She had to do something, she thought. If it's the last thing I get to do in this fucking place, I'm going down fighting.

Alexa noticed an outline of something piled along the far end of the room and she crawled towards it, willing herself to ignore the pain that came with each movement she made. The pain would go away, she thought, as long as she kept on moving. It had to go away.

Her hands touched cold metal pipes, most of them as large as her thigh and too heavy to lift by herself. She began to feel the entire pile of them with both hands, almost frantic now as she heard a woman's voice speaking just outside the door. Most of them were rusty and too large to wield but her heart lifted when her hands wrapped around something small enough to hold onto, and long enough to use as a weapon.

It was a pipe about three feet long, rusty threading on either end of it. She grasped it, holding it in front of her, and made her way to the door, where she'd heard the woman's voice earlier.

Sweat gathered on Alexa's brow, dripping along the sides of her face. Her heart thudded wildly within her chest as something told her that this time, her survival, and Liam's, would hinge on what she'd do next. She willed herself to be strong , if only for Liam's sake.

He didn't deserve any of this.

Alexa gripped the metal pipe, breathing in and out through her mouth as she readied herself, as if she were waiting for the pitcher to throw the ball. What was that game called in America, she thought. Baseball? Right.

But this time, she thought only of cricket, a game her father used to play when she was younger. He'd taught her how to hold that bat, how to hit the ball lightly. But he'd also taught her how to hit that ball with everything she got, because back then, she'd been so little, so weak.

Alexa closed her eyes, hearing footsteps approaching. She saw herself as that little girl, once so little, so weak.

Because in this deadly game she found herself involved in, she was the little girl. But this time, Alexa thought as she gripped the pipe and lifted it above her head, she wasn't going to be weak.

* * *

The pipe hit Goren in the chest and he staggered backwards, gasping for breath. Without waiting, Alexa swung the pipe again, this time hitting his back, just along the shoulder blades. The second strike caused Goren to let go of the gun and it clattered to the floor as Alexa raised the pipe one more time, this time aiming for his neck.

But Goren was ready. He turned and caught the pipe, twisted his wrist and pulled the pipe towards him with such force that the threading cut through Alexa's hands as the pipe slipped from her grip. She felt the pipe hit her square across her shoulder and she screamed in pain, dropping to the floor yet scrambling to move out of the way as she saw him lunge towards her again.

In the next room, she heard the sound of a gunshot. For a moment she froze, her mind processing all the possibilities as Goren swung the pipe dangerously close to her head, missing her by mere inches. Alexa rolled away from Goren's next strike, which hit the cold cement floor so hard that she swore she could feel it vibrate beneath her and as she did, her hand felt the cold metal of the gun he had dropped.

Suddenly every thing that Alexa learned about focusing on her target during her visits at the range came to her, her vision narrowing in the darkness at the only thing that was coming at her. She heard only the sound of her breathing, everything else disappearing around her as the shadow approached her, grunting as he did so. Alexa lifted the gun and pointed straight at the moving shadow that now grew larger as each second passed till she pulled the trigger once, twice and the third time, the sound of the bullet casings rattling on the ground around her.

* * *

The gunshots broke the silence of the room where the three men stood, catching them all but Yuri by surprise. Yuri had heard the struggle and the yells of pain just seconds earlier, his finger tightening on the trigger as he aimed his gun towards Nathaniel first, just as the older man turned pale and shouted "No!"

"We had an arrangement," he yelled at Yuri, who only laughed.

"Plans change, Sergei," Yuri said and pulled the trigger.

Suddenly Lucas sprang up from the chair. With his hands free, he grabbed it with his right hand, and swung it towards Yuri, yelling at Liam as he did so.

"Liam, duck!"

The chair hit Yuri squarely across the chest just as Liam hit the floor, the chair barely missing the boy's head. Yuri fell backwards, firing another round as Lucas lunged at him.

From the corner of his eye, Lucas saw Liam scramble towards Nathaniel and together they ran out the door. Lucas' fist caught Yuri squarely across the jaw and the man's eyes rolled up into his head, his mouth hanging slack. The force of the blow knocked him out temporarily, and the gun fell to the ground. But as Lucas sprinted towards the door, he felt Yuri's hands grab his leg and he tumbled forward.

Lucas rolled onto his back, blocking Yuri's blows with his arms. He kicked Yuri in the face as he scrambled onto his feet. Before the blonde man could recover, Lucas charged towards him, hitting him with a right upper cut to the man's ribs. As Yuri doubled over, Lucas grabbed his head and slammed his knee against Yuri's face. Blood spurted from the man's nose and he groaned, staggering to the ground.

"Liam!" Lucas yelled, running out the door. The rest of the building was deserted, and next to the door, he had just exited from, Lucas saw the outline of a body in the darkness. Alexa! He opened the door wider, and as the light shone into the darkened room, with its piles of pipes piled on one end of the room, he saw Goren's body on the ground, blood soaking through the man's shirt.

"Alexa!"

Then from outside the back door, Lucas heard her. Suddenly he was running, heading towards the back door, calling out both their names. Behind him, the door opened and Yuri emerged, a gun in his hand. He fired two shots at Lucas, missing him as the bullets ripped through the door. Lucas fell backwards, seeking cover.

Suddenly the front door burst open and Ros appeared. Yuri turned to face her, his gun at the ready but Ros was already firing three rounds, two of them hitting Yuri in the heart.


	26. Chapter 26

The sight of Nathaniel running past the door knocked the wind out of Alexa the second time that night. As she got to her feet, her knees threatening to buckle beneath her, Alexa ran to the door. It was impossible, she thought, even though she knew she'd heard his voice just minutes earlier.

But hearing a familiar voice wasn't the same as seeing a ghost run past the door, seconds after one shoots a man about to kill you. Alexa watched them disappear through the back door of the deserted office building, calling after them.

Outside, Nathaniel kept going but Liam stopped, having heard Alexa call out his name. He was scared and confused. He'd just left his father back in the room by himself to fight the bad man with the gun, he thought.

Just then, the door opened and Alexa emerged. Liam ran towards her, clinging to her as best he could, but Alexa seemed as if she hadn't heard him. She looked towards the fading darkness after Nathaniel.

As if snapping back to the present, Alexa looked at Liam and grabbed him by the shoulders. "You stay right here, Liam," she whispered. "And don't move till I come back."

"But mummy-" Liam protested but Alexa just looked at him, her eyes blazing with anger.

"Just stay right here, Liam," she whispered again, her voice suddenly softening as Liam's eyes filled with tears. The boy was trembling. "I'll be back, I promise."

She planted a kiss on his forehead and without turning to look at him again, ran after Nathaniel.

Harry saw Nathaniel running ahead of him, heading towards the abandoned refinery, the masterpieces spray painted against the steel and metal surfaces cast in a psychedelic vision from yesteryear by the rising of the sun. Nathaniel's tall form was unmistakable, Harry thought, even after all these years. He was still as wiry as ever. And though Nathaniel's thick blonde hair had been replaced with gray, Harry would never have mistaken him anywhere.

Nathaniel George was indeed alive.

As Harry rounded the corner of the main building, he saw Alexa hunched over Liam. But before he could call out her name, she turned and ran after Nathaniel. Harry cursed under his breath, torn between running after Alexa and staying behind to be with Liam.

"Liam," he called out.

Liam, his eyes wide as he turned to face Harry, ran towards him, bringing his arms around him tightly. Harry bent down and held the boy, hearing footsteps behind him and for a moment, Harry thought it was one of Nathaniel's men. He reached into his coat to pull out a gun but heard a familiar voice.

"You should have brought back-up, Harry," Jools said as armed members of CO19 kept running ahead. "I never realized you had a death wish." He turned to look at Liam, smiling. "Oh, hello there, young man."

"Oh, shut up, Jools," Harry muttered, his hold on Liam tightening. "Maybe you should return to Baghdad. I hear they miss you."

At the mention of Baghdad, Jools stiffened. He'd been stationed there years earlier after being expelled from Washington for committing a lewd act during a Wagner play. How he'd managed to get back to England and commandeer MI6 again was beyond anything Harry could comprehend, though he suspected it had something to do with his wife being a powerful barrister.

Everyone knew how upset she'd been having Jools stationed in Washington, and after that Baghdad. With their children, Hillary Siviter stayed behind in London, keeping her position in court, even heading the prosecution of one of Harry's own operatives, Zoe Reynolds, for conspiracy for murder three years earlier.

But if it was any consolation, Harry knew that knowledge of Jools' nontraditional trade arrangement of an important Foreign Service official such as Nathaniel George would be the last nail in Jools' professional coffin. And this, Harry knew, was the main reason Jools couldn't quite get himself out of Harry's affairs tonight.

He was after Nathaniel to save his own career.

"If you even disturb a hair on Nathaniel's head, Jools -" Harry began but was interrupted by the sound of gunshots inside the building. The three of them immediately sought cover, their backs against the wall just as the door burst open and Lucas came running out, calling for Alexa and Liam.

As soon as he saw them along the side of the building, Lucas reached out his arms towards Liam, his face breaking into a relieved smile. "Liam," his said, his voice almost a hoarse whisper. "You gave me quite a scare, young man."

The boy ran up to him as Lucas knelt down and held him, grateful that Liam was safe. It was all Lucas could do as he held him, feeling Liam tremble in his arms, knowing that at that moment, he couldn't leave the boy to run after Alexa, wherever she was.

Behind him, the door opened and Ros ran out. She looked at Jools, frowning.

"Where's Alexa?" She asked Harry, ignoring the MI6 department head.

"She went after Nathaniel," Harry replied, walking towards the direction he'd last seen Nathaniel and Alexa. "They headed to the refinery."

That there were two sections of the abandoned refinery meant that they would be tackling a maze of rooms and floors, as both buildings had up to five levels. Harry could only imagine where Nathaniel and Alexa were at the moment, knowing only the general direction they had both disappeared to.

As Lucas got up, Liam clung to him.

"Please don't leave," he whispered and Lucas nodded, frowning as he held onto Liam. He wanted nothing more than to go after Alexa and make sure she was safe, but as he felt Liam's arms around him, Lucas knew his job was to stay behind..

"She'll be safe," Jools chided as he buried his gloved hands into the pockets of his coat, cursing under his breath at the chill in the air.

Harry ignored Jools as he walked away. If there was one thing he needed to do, Harry thought as he made his way into the bowels of the refinery itself, it was to find Nathaniel before Jools' men did, and get him safely back to the Grid, where he could arrange for Nathaniel to get his old life back.

Nathaniel wouldn't be able to do the work he used to do, but he would be able to live the rest of his life in comfort in England - and together they'd bury Jools Siviter for what he'd done. Whatever Nathaniel had been forced to do in Russia, Harry would make things right, no matter what.

But to do that, Harry had to get to Nathaniel first.

The abandoned refinery proved to be home for graffiti artists now, with every inch of bare wall covered with paint of many colors. The nontraditional canvas provided great camouflage, Harry thought, perfect for one to blend in if he knew how to do it right. The ground was littered with trash, glass crunching beneath his feet as he walked, the rising sun behind him.

Harry pulled out his gun from inside his coat, aware that Ros was nowhere nearby to cover for him. And as much as he would have wanted Lucas to be with him, Harry could not leave Liam with Jools.

No, this was just the way things had to be, he thought. Harry thought of the missing file from the Records office - Operation Imogen - and Minerva. The timing for its disappearance was just too convenient, he thought.

Operation Imogen detailed Minerva's history with MI5, beginning with her employment in Cologne. At that time, twenty-nine years earlier, Harry had been assigned to a black op called Omega whose main goal was to provoke the German authorities to clamp down on the RAF activities in Germany. RAF, which stood for the Red Army Faction, was Germany's most prominent left-wing militant group.

Minerva was young, beautiful and fluent in German, Russian and Spanish, in addition to English. Her father was a British soldier, and her mother, an Argentine model who used to appear in cigarette and sewing machine advertisements in South America. Harry still remembered how he had found himself charmed by the twenty-five year old linguist who wanted nothing more than to go on an adventure, and in the process, serve her father's country.  
But what would never be in any official report was that two months into the operation, Minerva had fallen in love with Harry, begging him to leave his wife Catherine who was pregnant with their second child. By the time Harry broke off the month-long affair, Nathaniel entered into the picture and had fallen head over heels in love with Minerva, much to Harry's relief.

Nathaniel, a brilliant intellectual who often felt more comfortable talking about gamma rays and isotopes, explaining nuclear energy policy to groups of like-minded individuals more than he did around women, wooed the exotic beauty with gifts and lavish dinners. Never in his life would he even imagine that Minerva would fall for him.  
But she did, and three weeks later, they were married.

Harry didn't want to know if she had done it to spite him, in her own naive way, but he knew it was for the best. Such were the temptations in his line of work, he thought, but Harry was glad to see that in the end, Minerva was truly happy with Nathaniel.

But then she'd turned against her country and against Harry. Somehow, she'd been turned into an FSB asset during Nathaniel's appointment in the Ukraine and Harry could only imagine why she'd done it. Did they threaten her family? Alexa?

Harry wished she could have confided in him, remembering how her hand would graze against his during those dinners at the George family home, and how Harry would spend most of his time with Nathaniel, avoiding her gaze for there was something in her eyes. It was as if she had wanted to tell him something.

But Harry knew it was too late to dwell on such things. Such was the nature of his life. No one was who they seemed.  
Harry reached a quiet section of the refinery, still on the first floor. The ground was littered with broken bottles and dirty syringes. The smell of urine filled the air and he turned to walk away.

But then he heard it.

The sound came from somewhere ahead of him and Harry moved forward as quietly as he could. The hair at the back of his neck prickled and he brought his gun up, his finger caressing the side of the trigger. The last time Harry had shot a gun had been less than forty-eight hours ago, he thought. Arkady.

Suddenly Nathaniel appeared before Harry, half of him obscured by a metal pillar and Harry stopped. Nathaniel's shirt was soaked with blood. He'd been betrayed once again, this time by the men who'd escorted him out of Russia and he knew it had be be under orders from Arkady, but Nathaniel knew that it was too late for regrets now. It had to happen sooner or later. Traitors didn't deserve anything less than being betrayed themselves.

"Hello, Harry," Nathaniel said.

"Nathaniel," Harry whispered, relieved to see his old friend after so long. "I had no idea about the arrangement Jools made. I would never have approved such a harebrained scheme."

"It was best to keep you out of it, Harry," Nathaniel said, resignation evident in his voice. "I had no choice. I had to do what I did then, just as I have to do what I'm doing now."

His last words had turned suddenly cold and Harry frowned. Nathaniel finally stepped out into the open and with him, Alexa, held tightly against his side, his forearm pinning her by the neck in front of him.

"Harry, I'm sorry," she whispered. She looked small against him, bruises dark against her pale face. Nathaniel held a gun against her head.

She'd been too careless, running after her father like she did, wanting only to see for herself that it was real, that he was alive. She'd gone after him without any other thought in the world about her safety, or anyone else's. It was simply too surreal, she thought.

Everything in the last forty-eight hours had been too surreal. Everyone she never thought she'd ever see again had returned, as if landing at her doorstep one after another and though she knew it was bound to happen, she never expected one of them to be her own father, a man she buried eight years earlier.

As Nathaniel dragged her out in the open, Alexa's shoulder throbbed, almost useless by her side. She felt powerless against Nathaniel, almost allowing him to capture her and take her gun away from her. At that moment, she'd felt like a child again, too confused to know what to do next.

"Jools' little spy was just too eager," Nathaniel said softly. "She thought her daddy would be soft, easily wrapped around her little finger like he used to be. Drop the gun, Harry. All I want to do is talk."

Harry cursed under his breath as he lowered his own gun to the ground and stood back up. "Then talk, Nathaniel. I would have listened without you doing all this. Let her go."

"I can't let her go, Harry. Not anymore. Not after everything that's happened."

"Then tell me what has happened, Nathaniel. Whatever it is that you've found yourself in, we can fix it."

Nathaniel laughed drily. "You haven't changed. Everything can always be fixed by the ever-resourceful Harry Pearce. Well, not this time. This time, nothing can ever be fixed." He walked to the center of the platform, pulling Alexa with him.

"I gave up everything for Alexa and Liam, Harry," Nathaniel continued. "All because they told me she destroyed Sugarhorse after I delivered it to them as their ransom." His arm tightened around Alexa and she gasped, her hands struggling to loosen Nathaniel's hold on her.

"You could have killed so many people, Daddy," she whispered. "I couldn't let them have those names. I had to destroy it before Arkady got it."

Harry stared at Nathaniel, horrified. "You? You delivered Sugarhorse to them? How could you, Nathaniel? I promised you I was going to get Alexa back."

"You took too bloody long, Harry," Nathaniel snapped. "They had Alexa, and they contacted me, telling me I could get her back. In exchange, they wanted what Minerva stole from you. The names of all your Sugarhorse assets."

Harry stared at Nathaniel incredulously. Was it really true that it was him who compromised Sugarhorse? His own operation? "That's impossible. How could she have gotten it?"

Nathaniel sighed. "You tell me, Harry. How could Minerva have gotten into your house and collected the information? It's taken me years to figure this out, and I can't quite believe it still."

This time Harry did not say anything.

"Did you know that William Blake said that it's easier to forgive an enemy than it is to forgive a friend?" Nathaniel asked. "I loved Minerva with every fiber of my being, Harry. Even you knew that, yet you betrayed me. My own best friend."

Harry was silent. He remembered it now.

He'd run into Minerva at the Savoy. She was walking through the lobby just as Harry finished with a meeting with a colleague, and he'd called her name, surprised to see her there. He'd had a few drinks, and was not quite as formal as he always was. Old habits died hard, he thought.

Harry remembered asking her where Alexa was and she said that Alexa was at a friend's house and that she had just met someone for tea. Hours later, he found himself in the hotel room with her, mad at himself for being too weak to resist her.

Had it been then, he wondered, when she'd done it? For two weeks later, his house had been burgled and though the thieves had stolen his television and other electronic devices, they could have gotten into his safe then, where the names of his assets had been stored.

"She loved you, Nathaniel," Harry said. "She loved her family."

Nathaniel laughed. "Did she really love me, Harry? Or was it Alexa she really loved and the only reason she stayed with me? Did you know that she wanted to leave me, Harry? But she knew she wasn't going to get a penny from me if she did, and so she stayed."

This time Alexa stopped struggling against him. "Daddy, stop it," she whispered. "Please stop it."

"Stop speaking the truth about your mother?" He tightened his forearm against her neck again but this time, Alexa didn't fight him. "You are just like her, you know. You and your damn secrets. And to think I gave up my life, my career, and my future for you because I thought you were innocent."

"Nathaniel," Harry said, finally finding his voice. "Let her go. This is between you and me. She doesn't have to be here."

Nathaniel laughed again, though there was no happiness in it. "Of course she has to be here, Harry. All of this happened because of her."

Harry swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. He shook his head. "Why are you doing this, Nathaniel? She's your daughter."

"I gave up my life to become a traitor against my own country, Harry. Talked into a farce of a trade by Jools Siviter, damn him," Nathaniel's voice was filled with anger. "All because Alexa had something the Russians wanted, though she pretended not to even know anything about it." His hold on her tightened but Alexa.

"Nathaniel, we can bury Jools for what he did to you," Harry said. "I swear to you, I want him to go down for what he did as much as you do."

Nathaniel shook his head. "It doesn't matter now, Harry." He turned to look at Alexa. "For eight years I had to grovel to the Russians. Can you imagine what I had to go through those first few years? Reduced to being nothing till I could prove to them that I was loyal to their cause, that I would do as I was supposed to do just to keep you alive? And all that time, thinking that you were just an innocent victim, I found out that you had what the Russians wanted all along, and that MI6 turned you into a whore to get the information."

"Daddy, please stop this," Alexa whispered.

Nathaniel paused, closing his eyes as he felt the pain from his wound throb. When the pain passed, he continued. "The only reason I was able to leave Russia this time was because I promised them I'd get it back for them. And I did."

"No!" Suddenly Alexa began to struggle against him, but Nathaniel, even with his injury, proved to be stronger than her. She thought of Lucas, and of how he had given the thumb drive up so easily.

"Imagine, if you will, Harry, nuclear bombs small enough to fit a suitcase or a backpack. A nuclear bomb hidden somewhere in England, just waiting for the order to have them brought to the middle of the city and detonated," Nathaniel laughed. "America was too careless with one of theirs and with my help, Russia was able to make a few more units, all hidden away in secret caches all over the world - even here."

Harry stared at him, horrified. "What happened to your loyalty, Nathaniel? Your humanity?" Harry asked, a part of him wishing that Nathaniel was lying, that everything he was saying wasn't true.

"Oh, I kept my loyalty to England all those years, Harry, doing my job in bringing Russia one step ahead and two steps back each time. But everything changed when I found out the truth about Alexa - about you and Minerva when she worked for you in Cologne. That's when my loyalty left me then."

He brought the gun back against Alexa's temple, his finger on the trigger this time. "You see, I gave my my life for a daughter who wasn't even mine."

"Nathaniel, please don't do this," Harry pleaded, taking a step forward, his face turning pale.

"Do you know what true betrayal feels like, Harry?" Nathaniel was shouting this time, his hand shaking as Alexa struggled to finally get away from him. "This is what true betrayal feels like, Harry. I want to see the anguish in your face when I do this."

"Daddy, no!"

"I want to see the look on your face when I kill your daughter, Harry."

The shot echoed from somewhere in the shadows behind the metal pillars. Blood splattered all over the side of Alexa's head as Nathaniel was thrown towards the side, his legs folding beneath him. The arm that held Alexa grew slack and heavy, dragging Alexa down with Nathaniel.

But even before Alexa fell to the ground, Harry caught her, his arms pulling her away to safety, as all around them, members of CO19, all clad in black from head to foot, their faces obscured by the face masks and the helmets they wore emerged from behind the pillars. One of the men helped Harry pull Alexa away from Nathaniel's body, while two more ordered Ros, who had arrived minutes earlier and was standing just behind one of the pillars by Harry, to drop her gun. It was pandemonium.

"Put your hands up," one of the men ordered Harry and Ros. "Put your hands up now!"

But Harry was not raising his hands for anyone. He kept dragging Alexa away from Nathaniel's lifeless body. He'd be damned if CO19 shot him, he thought. There'd be hell to pay if they did.

Alexa allowed herself to be pulled away, her limbs useless to any command her brain may have ordered, for she was too stunned to move. In her mind she saw Nathaniel, the father she thought she knew, the memories rushing past the floodgates of her subconscious. He was her father, she told herself again and again. Nothing could ever change that.

But as she stared at him, not hearing Harry speaking to her, she realized one thing that suddenly became as clear as anything else she'd ever learned her whole life.

It was all a lie. Everything she'd ever believed in had been a lie.


	27. Chapter 27

Jools Siviter was quite pleased with himself.

He'd managed to accomplish so many things in just a few hours, all of them without lifting a finger.  
He had not bothered to wait out the confrontation between CO19 and Nathaniel, leaving Lucas and Liam by the side of the building as he returned to the comfort of his car. From there, he gave the order for Nathaniel's termination once clear and present danger to someone else was established.

And for that, he was grateful to Nathaniel George. For if Nathaniel had not threatened to pull the trigger on Alexa, Jools would have had a lot of explaining to do once a dead man's existence would come to light.

But as he gazed at Nathaniel's body on the autopsy table, having gone to the morgue to see the body for himself, he knew it was all over.

Ever since Jools finagled a return as head of MI6 with the help of his wife, long after the unfortunate misunderstanding in Washington, he'd been waiting for Arkady's return to England. That Arkady would return as chief FSB resident in London surprised Jools. He'd never expected the man to ever return as successfully as he did, his London position cemented for having managed to negotiate the release of an important Russian operative captured in the line of duty in exchange for Lucas North, MI5 operative imprisoned for the last eight years.

Arkady's move to London, however, had become a problem for Jools. For as long as Arkady was in London, he knew that his own career would be at risk. After all, Jools had managed to orchestrate the defection of an important British diplomat without the poor man being aware of what he was doing. For that was what the trade of Nathaniel George in exchange for Alexa's life had boiled down to - a defection.

Maybe to Nathaniel, the "trade" was a way to save his daughter. But to Arkady, it meant that he became the key operative responsible for the acquisition and management of a major English diplomat, one whose expertise in nuclear energy policy was unparalleled. After all, it had been common knowledge that though Nathaniel's career trajectory in the Foreign Office had to do with foreign policy, he also majored in nuclear physics at the university. Combining the two had made him quite a catch to the Russians.  
But Lucas' return to England as part of the spy exchange had also set many events in motion, prompting Jools to convince Hillary to stay in Bahamas a few more days till it was alright to come back.

Arkady's demand for the file on Operation Imogen told Jools that Arkady had a few tricks up his sleeve. It told Jools that Arkady knew something he did not. That, of course, was the knowledge that Harry was Alexa's real father.  
But even Jools could not fault Harry for such weakness. Every person had a vice, a human failing - an Achilles heel. And of all such vices, sex always proved to be the most powerful of all, for humans long to feel love, to be loved - even if it meant just a few days or hours.

That's why honey traps were invented, Jools thought. Along with spying, prostitution was one of the oldest professions in the world and what was worse, was that there was little to distinguish between the two. One only had to come up with the case of Samson and Delilah as an example, Delilah being the perfect honey trap sent to discover the giant's source of power.

And Minerva was the perfect Delilah to Harry's Samson. If the relationship had occurred twenty nine years or so ago, that would have been during Harry's stint in Cologne - Operation Omega. Also around the same time Nathaniel would have met Minerva and asked her to marry him just six weeks later.

But that was Harry's business now. Jools had no time for domestic squabbles. He had other things on his mind, other problems to attend to.

For Lucas' return back to England had also produced another problem.

Mikhael Lubienko, or rather, Michael Smith, was back in England, and this time Jools couldn't deny that he'd simply forgotten all about the deep cover operative. After all, Jools had been reassigned somewhere else when Mikhael was requesting a transfer away from Moscow and had neglected to pass on the information to his successor.

Jools had sent Mikhael to Moscow more than fifteen years earlier, setting up the perfect venue for collecting information. There was nothing like the combination of women and alcohol to set tongues loose, and Mikhael's operation, black op as it was, had been very successful from the very beginning. The man became known as "the peddler".

But when Mikhael fell in love with a Russian woman named Oksana, things became complicated. And Jools hated complications.

It had stalled Jools' own operation, just when he needed it at full speed. So when Jools sent one of his men to convince Oksana to leave, fabricating a story about Mikhael dealing with drugs and trafficking women and children, the last thing he expected was for Oksana to laugh at the man's face and pull out a gun on him, demanding he leave before she tell Mikhael who had been out of town that week.

Unfortunately, from there, things went horribly wrong. Whether the fire was intentional or not, or whether the man locked, not just Oksana but her one-year old son, Nikolai, inside the apartment or not, it left Mikhael a widower. And from there, after Jools pretended not to have intercepted any of Mikhael's messages to meet with him for he'd just been sent to Washington, Mikhael went native.

He disappeared.

But like an unwelcome ghost, Mikhael came back to England. To say your operative went native on his own was one thing. But to be the cause of it, was another. Jools could not afford one more mark against his record.

Jools waited till the attendant covered Nathaniel's face with a white sheet before following him out the door.

"We'll be doing an autopsy today," the attendant said. "Harry Pearce wants a full medical autopsy."

"It's only fitting," Jools said, forcing himself to act sympathetic and failing miserably. "Accord him the respect given to any high ranking official."

As he walked out into the sunlight, Jools heaved a sigh of relief. He smiled.

It looked like things were working themselves out - all on their own.

According to the hospital, Mikhael was dead, having died on the operating table, and Nathaniel was gone as well, his body cold and stiff on the metal table at the morgue. And as Jools pulled out his phone to look at the photograph that had been sent to him last night, he found himself smiling.

Arkady, it appeared, was dead as well, lying in a shallow grave somewhere in the outskirts of London, shot in the heart by someone whose identity Jools couldn't really be bothered to find out. For as long as Arkady was dead, his future with MI6 was safe.

As he stood on the corner of the intersection, awaiting his driver to pull up and drive him back to Vauxall Cross, Jools inhaled deeply, smelling London in all its early morning glory.

Housekeeping never felt so good, he thought to himself.

* * *

Alexa slept for over twenty hours, her body refusing to move more than was necessary, her eyelids too heavy to open more than what was required to see who walked in and out of her hospital room. Too many nurses coming in to check on her vitals, injecting her with medications - painkillers and sedatives, they said - every single one of them escorted by two men with guns that for a moment, Alexa thought she was a prisoner.

But twice, she saw Harry, his face etched with worry as he sat by her bedside just watching her, and the panic dissipated as she felt his hand on hers. But when she opened her eyes again, he was gone. She wondered then if it all had been a dream.

She saw Lucas and Liam, too, both of them inseparable as Lucas helped Liam get up on the hospital bed to lay down next to her. She wanted to talk to him, to ask him if he was alright, but she was too tired even to do that. And within moments of feeling Liam's body next to hers, Alexa drifted off to sleep again, only to wake up to see that she was alone once more, the space next to her cold and empty.

They said she'd gone into shock and Alexa knew that she must have, for she had no recollection of how she even got to the hospital. They ran a battery of tests to make sure she was alright, eliminating the possibility of internal injuries.  
Everything had been a blur since she heard that gunshot ring out in the semi-darkness of the refinery ground floor, feel the bullet whiz past her hair, ruffling it and then the sticky mess that followed immediately after.

No, she had no recollection of anything after that.

And so she slept, and with the drugs they pumped through her intravenous line, she slept a dreamless sleep till a vision came on so suddenly that it caused her to bolt upright on her bed, stifling a scream of pain in her arm brought on by the sudden movement.

But Alexa knew right away that this was not just a simple dream. This had been real.

They never told her their names but she knew what they were. Psychotherapists, every single one of them. And every one of them, probably discredited by their respective professional associations - for what they believed in and how they conducted their business lay completely outside of the realm of professional psychotherapy.

For three days, they forbade her from sleeping, taping her eyes open when they needed to and splashing her face with ice cold water, leaving her a quivering mess of a woman afraid of her own shadow. She remembered the flashing lights, the deafening sounds constantly played again and again, and the drugs they pushed into her system.

In three days, they managed to change her complete biography. And for almost eight years, she had believed it.  
But it hadn't been the first time someone had attempted to rewrite her life. A bullet to her head had achieved it in Russia, while at Vauxhall Cross, Jools used three crackpot psychotherapists to do exactly the same thing.

Alexa wiped the sweat that gathered upon her brow and glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was four thirty in the morning.

Her body ached all over and her left arm was in a sling. Her shoulder hurt when she tried to move it, tears springing from her eyes as the pain shot through her whole arm. But as she slowly moved her arm up and down, she remembered the doctor saying she'd only strained it at the joint.

But as she slowly sat up, pulling herself up by the rails with her good arm, Alexa stiffened as she realized that she wasn't alone. She flinched as the figure in the darkness moved, her muscles moving too slow for her to get away and as her heart thudded loudly inside her chest, she watched the figure move towards the light.

"Bad dreams?" Ros asked as she handed Alexa a cup of water, tossing the bendable straw away. "You're well enough to drink from the cup. These bendable straws are a joke anyway."

Alexa accepted the glass, eyeing Ros suspiciously. It wasn't like Ros Myers to pay anyone a social visit, Alexa thought.

"It's only water," Ros said. "If I had wanted to kill you, you'd have never woken up."

As Alexa gulped it down, Ros refilled the glass before sitting back down again. How long she'd been there Alexa didn't know, but somehow she felt relieved. It had been awhile since she'd been in the lone company of a woman, and it felt good not to have all that testosterone flying around.

"Why are you here?"

"I couldn't sleep," Ros replied though Alexa found that reason alone hard to believe. "I thought you'd like some company."

For a few moments, neither woman spoke and Alexa leaned back against her pillow, pushing on the bed controls so that she reclined.

"You and I are alike in many ways," Ros said quietly. "We're both daughters of powerful men, both ambassadors - or more precisely, former ambassadors. And with that comes the burden of responsibility that not a lot of daughters of lesser men have to bear - to always do what's right, no matter what the cost."

Ros was the daughter of Sir Roslyn Myers, a former Ambassador to Russia now spending the next ten years in prison for his involvement in a coup d'tat almost two years earlier. Alexa wondered if Ros slept soundly at night knowing she was the daughter of a traitor.

"I'm not his daughter, Ros," Alexa said. "In case you haven't heard -"

"You and I didn't hear anything, Alexa," Ros said as she stood up and approached the bed once more, her voice cold and firm. "None of us, not even Harry, heard your father's last words. Do you understand that? If you even breathe a word of it, we will discredit you and your foundation as a fraud, nothing more than a way to make money at the plight of hundreds of victims. Is that what you would like to happen, Alexa?"

"Total deniability," Alexa breathed. "You want me to pretend it never happened."

Ros stared at her. "Because it never did. Nathaniel George died of cancer eight years ago. The man who held you at gunpoint last night was Sergei Fenix, an insane criminal who fancied himself a designer of nuclear bombs. And that is the story you and I are going to go along with."

For a few moments, Alexa found herself speechless.

"Does Harry know what you're doing?"

"It doesn't matter whether Harry knows or not, Alexa. I'm protecting you most of all from any criminal charges that could be brought against you. If word gets out that there is a nuclear bomb the size of a suitcase somewhere in London and you are involved, do you know the consequences of that? Do you know what it can do to Harry? To Liam and Lucas?"

Alexa said nothing.

"Now you tell me, Alexa, if it's worth all that," Ros said.

"Where's Liam?" Alexa suddenly asked as Ros returned to her chair, sitting down and crossing her long legs, her hands folded in front of her.

"He's with his father," Ros replied coolly.

"How is he?"

Ros shrugged but didn't answer her. Instead, she asked another question. "Do you love Lucas?"

Alexa laughed drily, shaking her head as she did so. "First you threaten me and treat me as an imbecile, Ros. And now you ask me if I love Lucas North? Love is a fairy tale people tell one another to make it through each day feeling as if they amount to something. Besides, it's none of your bloody business."

"I love your rosy view of life but I'm section chief now, Alexa, and I need Lucas to be completely with me on my team, so yes, it is my business," Ros said. "I need to know you're not playing him."

"I never realized how much you cared -"

"I only care for his performance on my team," Ros interjected. "Lucas wants desperately to prove himself to everyone - most of all, to Harry. I wouldn't want you to drag him down. You've been quite a distraction to him."

"Somehow, concern such as this is quite unlike you, Ros," Alexa said coldly.

Ros shrugged. "Harry always said Lucas was once the best, but no one will ever know that if he's too busy protecting you, Alexa. Most of all, Lucas himself."

"I chose none of this to happen, Ros," Alexa said.

Suddenly Ros was off her chair and by Alexa's bedside. She leaned over towards Alexa, her eyes flashing with anger.

"Stop lying to me. You chose this path the moment you agreed to work with Mikhael, Alexa. Don't think you can fool me with your feigned innocence because I'm not falling for it like everyone else, even Harry. I worked for Six before I transferred over to Section D, so don't lie to me now. I know about Nephthys, Alexa. I know who you are."

For a few moments, both women glared at each other, Ros' steely gaze never leaving Alexa's face.

Nephthys was a name Alexa had not heard in eight years, not since Mikhael wrote his last report for his handler just minutes before she had left the club for her last mission - to meet with Oskar Millivic and obtain Tiresias - before everything went horribly wrong and she found herself on the other end a gun.

"I know all about Nephthys," Ros whispered. "Mikhael was unable to file that last report but I know of the other operations he sent you to do - his perfect honey trap sent out to obtain information. Now I don't know what happened that to make you into this blithering shell of a spook - I don't know who broke you, because that's exactly what they did - but I want this performance to stop immediately."

"What do you want from me, Ros?" Alexa asked.

"We will always have it tougher, Alexa. We can never show weakness in this line of work, whether you're an asset or a spook, or just a woman trying to make it in this life," Ros said as she straightened her leather jacket and walked towards the door. "Your mother knew that rule very well, and she was good at what she did. She knew how to play the game."

Ros paused, sighing as she reached for the door knob. "But she had one weakness and that proved to be her downfall. It's the same weakness that brought your father down and it's the same way everyone else will get to Harry and Lucas."

Alexa looked at Ros, her brow furrowing, but she did not say anything.

"It's you," Ros said quietly.

"So what do you suggest I do, Ros?"

"I didn't come here to tell you what to do, Alexa," Ros said as she opened the door. "You'll have to decide that for yourself, though I suspect you already know the answer. Wake up and smell the roses, Alexa. Because they're all dead on the vine and the stench is about to get worse."

And as the door shut behind Ros, Alexa looked away. Her jaw tightened.

Alexa swung her legs to the side of the bed and stepped onto the cold floor, making her way to the closet hoping to find her clothes. But first, she had to do something.

Nephthys had to find her handler.

* * *

Lucas had never been to the Horniman Museum before that afternoon, but he'd heard someone talk about it at the hospital when he and Liam visited Alexa. She'd been too sleepy to keep her attention on Liam for more than five minutes, the sedative taking effect as soon as the nurse administered it just before they got there after lunch.

To say Liam was disappointed had been an understatement but the boy kept his feelings in check till they left the hospital, tears streaming down his cheeks as soon as Lucas got him into the car. Liam was scared that Alexa wasn't going to wake up and it took another trip back up to the fourth floor for Lucas to allow Liam to speak to the nurse who reassured him that his mommy would be returning home the next day.

"We're just making sure she's not hurt, Liam," the woman said and Liam's face broke into a smile. A small one, Lucas saw, but it was a smile nonetheless. He has my lips, Lucas thought to himself as they returned to the car again.

It was then that Lucas decided that returning to the safe house was not what he and Liam needed. They both needed a distraction, and the museum proved to be a good way to spend the rest of the day. Harry had given Lucas a week off, himself too affected by the death of his friend, Nathaniel.

Lucas did not know what had transpired at the refinery platforms, how Nathaniel had managed to grab Alexa and hold her hostage, almost killing his own daughter till CO19 took that fateful shot, killing him instantly. Lucas had been with Liam the entire time, holding him till the ambulances arrived at the Gordon refinery, never leaving Liam's side even as the medical personnel checked on the boy.

Yet even as they enjoyed the exhibits, with the attendants in the Learning Room allowing Liam and other children to handle a pair of kettle drums from India called a nagara and pluck all they wanted on a sitar, Lucas could only think of how he'd almost lost Liam a few hours earlier. He found himself replaying the seconds before the gun had gone off as he swung the metal chair at Yuri, hearing Nathaniel yell out "no" as Liam ducked.

What if Liam hadn't ducked in time, he thought? He could have seriously hurt Liam and if he had, Lucas would never have forgiven himself. Nothing had ever prepared Lucas for the roller coaster of emotions that accompanied the reality of having a child of one's own. Nothing in his eight years in Russia ever prepared him for that.

For years, Lucas believed he'd been forgotten, when all that time, a new life had been born and was waiting for him to return.

Liam looked at Lucas, beaming with pride as he plucked on the sitar, laughing as one of the other attendants showed him how to play a tune, something that suspiciously sounded like _Row, Row, Row Your Boat_ to Lucas. It felt good to see Liam smile, Lucas thought as he applauded his exuberant performance.

Just a few hours earlier, the boy had been plagued with nightmares, crying out in his sleep so that Lucas found himself allowing Liam to get into bed with him till noon, hearing his breathing turn soft and calm as he fell asleep in Lucas' arms.

It was strange, Lucas thought, all the emotions that came to him in a span of a few hours. And confusing.

Lucas wanted nothing more than to prove himself to Harry, to show his old mentor that he still had what it took to be a top operative, the way he used to be. Harry had bent the rules for him even now, ignoring the protocol that dictated Lucas go through weeks, if not months, of debriefing. Instead, Harry had allowed him to work back at Section D immediately.

Lucas could only imagine the pile of requests for Lucas' assessments on Harry's desk. Instead there would be no psychological counseling, no endless trips to HR for recorded interview after interview to assess his skills and his emotional well-being. There would be none of that for Harry knew how bad Lucas needed to prove himself, to gain his old life back.

But that had been before Lucas found out that he had a son. Now things had changed considerably and Lucas found himself feeling overwhelmed at the decisions he would have to make.

His life had suddenly changed overnight.

Lucas was a father now, and his son needed him. He wanted nothing more than to be with Liam, to be his father the way his own father had been to him. Lucas couldn't wait to show Liam the different sailor knots his own father had taught him, take him to the Natural History Museum and show him the dinosaur bones and more. There was a world of adventure out there for both of them, he thought. Father and son.

And then there was Alexa.

At the thought of her, Lucas felt the strange fluttering deep in his belly, the same one he felt just last night, when he'd held her hand in the car, assuring her that yes, people did fall in love. That she considered what they had together was based only on sex surprised Lucas, if not hurt him, but he knew she had a point. Nothing was ever what they seemed anymore.

Yet it wasn't just based on the sex. At least not anymore. It was so much more than that now, Lucas thought. They had Liam.

Lucas turned to look at his son again, watching the boy's face scrunch up in concentration as he plucked a few notes on the sitar to the tune of something that was actually pretty good. _Mary Had a Little Lamb_, Lucas thought, identifying the tune right away.

Lucas clapped his hands, laughing as Liam looked up at him with a huge smile on his face. "Did you hear that, Daddy?" He asked. "Did you see me play that song?"

"Yes, I did, Liam," Lucas said, getting up from the benches where he'd joined the other parents earlier. "I loved it."

As they made their way back to the museum to see the dinosaurs again, Lucas looked behind him. He knew that two men tailed their every move, keeping their distance so that even though Lucas knew they were there, Liam would have no idea.

The boy had already been through enough, Lucas thought. He didn't deserve to go through the horrors of last night again - no one did.

And as Lucas guided Liam through the crowd of children and their parents towards the model of the Tyrannosaurus Rex hulking over them, he was going to make sure it would stay that way.


	28. Chapter 28

_Mind you, sometimes the angels smoke, hiding it with their sleeves, and when the archangel comes, they throw the cigarettes away: that's when you get shooting stars."_  
Vladimir Nabokov

* * *

Nephthys, according to Egyptian mythology, was the goddess of night and sleep. She was also a friend and protector of the dead. This as much Ros knew and as she walked into the Grid that morning, having just left Alexa at the hospital, she wondered if she'd done the right thing.

The girl had just lost her father and had been close to losing her own son as well. For a brief moment, Ros felt a pang of regret for how callous she had been to Alexa just an hour earlier, but as she spotted Harry's face through the glass wall that separated his office from the rest of the Grid, she knew she'd done the right thing.

After leaving the Gordon Refinery the other night, Ros had dropped off the grief-stricken Harry at his home. But instead of heading straight to her flat, Ros returned to Thames House and there, as she sat alone before her desk, she replayed a few things that had happened the last two days.

Jools Siviter's visit at the hospital and at the Grid had bothered her. Ros had worked for MI6 before transferring over to Five just a few years earlier, and she knew all about Jools and his incompetence as head of Six. That's why he'd been sent away to Washington shortly before she was recruited.

He was a disgrace, that was all there was to it. He never followed protocol, and was a firm believer of doing whatever it took to get what he wanted, whether it was information or simply to manipulate people. It wasn't any different from most heads of the various major offices, she assumed, but he'd also been responsible for many failed operations. But because the man was so well connected - among them his wife being a powerful QC herself - many of his failures had been swept under the rug and short of stripping him of his position, he was simply shuffled to some other office after another abroad.

Yet here he was, back in the same position he'd been removed from years earlier, conveniently installed as the interim head of Six again while the current head was supposedly going through heart bypass surgery.

And wouldn't you know it, thought Ros, Arkady Kachimov had also been installed as chief London resident of the FSB a week or two before Jools' reinstatement. And of course, there was Nathaniel George AKA Sergei Fenix, whose reappearance in London had been preempted by an order of execution by Arkady to Anatoly Rubiev, the international hit man she killed at the ferry terminal.

Or so they all thought. The assassination order had been for Mikhael Lubienko, and probably Alexa as well.

So many coincidences, Ros had found herself mulling over as she sat before her desk, staring at the computer screen before her. Was it pure coincidence then that the defection to Russia by Nathaniel eight years earlier, a man well versed in nuclear energy, had been masterminded by both Jools and Arkady?

It was a puzzle that was simply begging to be solved, and Ros could feel just how close she was in doing so. There was a connection somewhere but she could not yet see it.

Suddenly Ros remembered the envelope that Harry carried with him to the hospital. Ros remembered how Harry clutched it against his chest tightly, as if it contained secrets never meant to be seen by anyone else. He'd brought it to the hospital to show to Mikhael, Ros thought.

But why? What was in it?

He'd left it behind in the car when Ros dropped him off at his home, and Ros had brought it in with her, and as she got up and walked into Harry's office to leave the envelope on his desk, she paused. She looked around her. The two junior operatives at the far end of the Grid were concentrating on some phone conversations playing in their ear phones and were copiously writing down notes.

Ros drew a deep breath and walked out of Harry's office, still holding the envelope he had left in the car. She sat down at her desk and opened it.

The photographs that stared back at her as she sat at her desk to peruse its contents took Ros by surprise, but she regained her composure and flipped through them, her mind barely comprehending how an eighteen-year old girl had managed to survive the torture that she'd been subjected to, if the photographs before her could be believed.

And they were to be believed, Ros thought. She'd seen her share of torture, both while in training and out on the field.  
Ros swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. She stared at the photographs, unable to stare away from them. Who would want to keep such horrible photographs around, she wondered.

Arkady had had his name carved on Alexa's back. He'd also been in the room when someone pulled two of her teeth out and subjected her to electric shock. They'd raped her, too - this, and other sessions documented in black and white photographs. Ros felt the bile rise from her stomach and she quickly took a sip of water, forcing herself to flip through the photographs and forcing all emotion from her mind.

She had to remain objective, she told herself. Someone had to.

When she got to the most recent photographs, two of them in color which featured both Alexa and Lucas together, she pulled them out and returned the rest into the envelope. She wished she could simply burn them all, as if seeing them reduced to ashes would do the same for the memories that Alexa must live with.

The first color photograph featured Lucas and Alexa at the foyer of her flat. Lucas had just closed the door behind him but his eyes firmly fixed on Alexa, her back to the camera. There was a softness to Lucas' gaze at the woman before him, his mouth half open as if he'd been about to say something.

The second photograph had been taken from above the bed inside Alexa's bedroom, Ros thought, judging from the position of the camera. Lucas was sitting on the bed, still clothed, while Alexa stood before him, naked, her back to the camera. It was an intimate moment and Ros felt her chest tighten, her gaze noting Lucas' hand pushing away a lock of hair from behind Alexa's ear.

Ros began to return the photographs into the envelope but stopped. She stared at the tattoo on Alexa's back. It was of a woman wearing a necklace of eight skulls and at her feet were more skulls. Why would someone want something so morbid tattooed permanently on their body, Ros thought.

"It's the goddess Kali," Jo suddenly said from behind Ros, startling her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that," Jo said as she shrugged off her coat. "I couldn't sleep and I wanted to come in and do some research for Ben before he starts his undercover work with Nadif."

Ros looked at the clock, slipping the rest of the photographs depicting torture back into the envelope, away from Jo's sight. It was seven in the morning and already the Grid was filling up with people though Ros had hardly noticed them.

Despite everything that had cropped up since Lucas returned from Russia, there were still fires to be put out and the next operation on the table had to do with getting one of their junior operatives into a dangerous undercover operation involving a Muslim sect suspected of cultivating suicide bombers.

"It's alright, Jo," Ros said with a small smile. "I would never known who it was anyway. I would have only thought of it as some distasteful tattoo that I would never get for myself, or anyone else."

"She's a Hindu goddess of death, and a protector of children," Jo said as she removed the scarf from around her neck and draped it across the back of her chair. "I did an article on Hindu dieties for the newspaper a few years ago and one can never forget the goddess Kali."

"And she wears skulls for jewelry? How nice," Ros said wryly.

"They're the skulls of her enemies," Jo replied as she peered at the photograph from behind Ros' shoulder. Jo's brow furrowed as she stared at the photograph. "That's interesting. There seems to be something that looks like a letter on each of the skulls."

Jo pointed to something - a shadow more likely - across each of the skull's frontal bone. She frowned, staring at the photograph intently.  
From afar, the shadows on the skulls were all different from one another but as Jo allowed her gaze to soften at the image before her, they resembled letters. Jo opened the drawer from her desk and returned with a magnifying glass.

"Ros, look at this," she said as she magnified the first skull on the left of the tattoo. "Each skull has a different shadow on its frontal bone. But it's really a letter. See?"

As Jo magnified the first skull, and then the second, Ros saw what she meant. If they were only shadows meant to give the tattoo dimensionality, the artists failed miserably when it came to the consistency of the lighting source. Instead, the shadows seemed erratic and as Ros stared, she began to see it.

There was something about the tattoo that now seemed beautiful to Ros for it told her more than she had ever expected to know about the woman she'd always thought as completely helpless and clueless.

The eight skulls the goddess Kali wore as a long necklace around her neck spelled a word - a name.

Nephthys.

* * *

The coroner's phone call jerked Harry from a deep reverie as he sat before his desk. He should be working, he thought, considering he'd arrived at the Grid earlier than usual, but he found himself having difficulty concentrating.

First, there had been Sugar Horse. It had been compromised but if Alexa and Jools were to be believed, his assets were all safe.

But now this - an old friend had just been shot in front of him, just before he was about to kill his only daughter. Only he wasn't about to kill her.

Harry had just found out that the gun Nathaniel had held against his daughter's temple had no bullets in the magazine nor the chamber. CO19 found the bullets a few meters away, behind one of the pillars in the same direction that father and daughter emerged from. They'd been purposefully removed from the gun.

Harry was perplexed. Did Nathaniel just commit what the Americans would call 'suicide by cop'? Did Alexa know that the gun was not loaded?

The phone rang again and this time, Harry dragged himself back to the present and picked up the receiver. It was the medical examiner, Dr. Percy Lee-Smith.

Harry could always trust Percy, who had worked closely with MI5 for the last twenty years. He was due to retire but it had been news of Nathaniel's death that had prompted the man to take on the grim task of overseeing the post-mortem instead of assigning it to one of the younger doctors.

"Harry, Nathaniel had a brain tumor," Percy said in a tired voice. "He wouldn't have had long to live."

"Are you sure about this?" Harry asked as he leaned forward, his brow furrowing.

"The tumor was in his frontal lobe. I've sent the tissues out for the official test - but malignant or not, the tumor was growing fast," Percy sighed. "He must have been in a lot of pain, judging from the size of it. But I wouldn't be surprised if it altered his judgment and even his memory."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes," Percy answered. "But you can always consult with a neurologist to make sure, Harry. I wasn't his primary physician but from a forensic standpoint, any tumor pushing against one's frontal lobe is bound to alter what that lobe controls - and that would be decision making, planning, reasoning, memory, among others."

Harry sighed. "I trust your judgment, Percy. I know you stick to the facts in everything. This was done as a favor, remember, so I appreciate your honest opinion, even if it's not the official opinion that'll go into the report."

"He was my friend, too, Harry," Percy said. "But before I go, a friend of yours came here the other night to view the body. It wasn't even cold yet."

"Who?"

"Jools Siviter," Percy replied.

Harry thanked Percy for his report and hung up the phone. Was Jools covering up for what he'd done eight years earlier? Making sure that Nathaniel was definitely dead this time?

But something else was bothering Harry. What if everything Nathaniel had said during those final moments - about a nuclear bomb the size of a suitcase and most of all, that Alexa was Harry's daughter - what if they were simply delusions caused by his tumor?

Harry was exhausted and emotionally drained.

Yesterday he had gone straight to see Alexa at the hospital only to find her too sedated to even acknowledge his presence, her eyes too distant as she drifted back to sleep. The doctor has told Harry that it had been necessary to sedate her as her body had gone into shock the moment the ambulance had arrived at the hospital the night before, and sleep was the best thing for her - for now.

"And after that?" Harry remembered asking the doctor then.

"She should be released tomorrow," he replied. "As long as the scans we took of her torso come back negative for internal trauma -"

"What do you mean?"

"She has some bruising along her torso from the car accident," the doctor said, flipping through the pages on the chart he held before him.

"We just want to make sure she's free of any internal injuries, Mr. Pearce. Besides, this is the safest place for her right now. We will be monitoring her for the next twenty four hours, maybe more if needed."

By the time Harry had left to return to the Grid, Alexa was completely asleep, her face looking as relaxed as he'd ever seen her. He found himself staring at her face, hoping to see a mirror of himself in her features, but Harry could find nothing. Instead, he saw Minerva's face before him.

She can't be my daughter, he had thought to himself then as he reached towards her to touch her hand gently. Even though Harry treated her just like his own daughter, he found the thought impossible. He'd ended his relationship with Minerva long before she married Nathaniel.

Someone must have fed Nathaniel that lie, Harry thought.

It was then that Harry heard the sound of Lucas' voice outside the door and when Liam ran inside the room, Harry found himself enveloping the little boy in his arms for a few moments before pleading to be excused so he could return to the Grid, Lucas right behind the boy, smiling sheepishly.

"Are you sure you don't need me, Harry?" Lucas had asked him then and Harry shook his head.

Lucas needed the time with his son, Harry thought. He needed to spend time with Alexa, too - both of them strangers to each other still.

And as he left, Harry had stolen one last look at the three of them, Alexa asleep on the bed while Liam crawled next to her as Lucas moved the intravenous lines aside to accommodate the little boy's form. A knot caught in Harry's throat.

A part of Harry wished for a happy ending for Lucas and Alexa, even when everything else that he knew about life as spook told him otherwise.

* * *

The guard by the door swore no one had passed him by since Ros Myers had left - except for a nurse in a white uniform. She'd emerged from the room at around five twenty, though he couldn't remember what time he'd seen her enter the room.

But upon entering the room, they found the real nurse lying on the bed with a mild concussion. By the time Harry received the call at the Grid, Alexa was long gone. Malcolm found CCTV footage of her emerging from the hospital lobby wearing the nurse's uniform beneath an oversized dark coat and a baseball cap which hid her blonde hair, freezing the frame for Harry who arrived at the Grid shortly after.

"Can we still find her?" Harry asked, suddenly nervous. He had assumed she'd still be too weak to venture out of the hospital. He hated having underestimated her but he could not deny a tiny sense of pride surging through him as he watched her slender form disappear in the crowd.

"I'll try," Malcolm said but frowned. "Harry, there was a thirty minute gap between the time she left the room and the time she left the hospital. It doesn't take that long to take the elevator to the lobby."

Harry frowned, deep in thought. Suddenly he looked up. "Where is Mikhael Lubienko?"

"We switched the identities of the two security agents who went into surgery the other night, and Mikhael's now known as Eddie Bellamy, just as you ordered. He's in ICU."

Harry nodded. The real Eddie Bellamy had died from a gunshot wound to the chest during the attack on Mikhael two nights ago, but Harry had ordered the records switched as a precaution. From here on, based on hospital records, Mikhael Lubienko had died on the operating table while Eddie Bellamy was recovering in a guarded room.

It helped that Eddie had no immediate family members, and so no one would be shocked to see how much he would have changed in the looks department had they gone to visit him.

Malcolm began tapping a few more keys, the video cameras on the hospital's fifth floor switching to different views on his computer screen.  
Finding what he wanted, Malcolm clicked on one of the hospital camera views.

"I found her," Malcolm said as Harry leaned forward to look at the screen. "She went straight to the fifth floor, Harry."

They watched as Alexa, wearing hospital scrubs, walked towards the guard sitting by the door to Eddie Bellamy's room in the ICU.

She smiled, said something that made that guard laugh and he opened the door to let her in. Harry watched as the guard's hand drifted for a moment along Alexa's backside, his face coloring and his mouth setting into a scowl.

_Damn it_, Alexa, Harry thought. _What the hell are you doing?_


	29. Chapter 29

Mikhael suddenly seemed small as he lay on the bed, the covers pulled up to his shoulders. Wires of different colors snaked from beneath the sheets to the machines along the side of the bed. One machine beeped regularly in tune with his heart beat while another beeped in intervals to indicate that the intravenous drip had reached the end of the bag.

A ventilator was helping him breathe and for a moment Alexa lingered to watch him, his scarred face pale beneath the light of the room. The room smelled faintly of antiseptic and she looked behind her, seeing that the guard was watching her from the glass window.

Suddenly she winked at him and walked towards the side of the bed to look at the drainage bag hanging along the railing that was attached to the urinary catheter, as if she were measuring the patient's urine output. The guard made a face and looked away, sitting back down on the chair with his back to Alexa.

Alexa straightened up and walked towards the closet. She didn't know exactly what she was looking for but she hoped to find the bag with his belongings somewhere, items that would have been found in his pockets when he'd been brought in.

The nurse who had handed Alexa her medication in her own room just minutes earlier had said so herself, and for that indiscretion, Alexa counted herself fortunate.

The nurse, who went by the name Marina according to her name tag, was young and bored. She was probably also curious as to why the patient who had gone by the name of Jenna Smith required an armed guard twenty-four hours a day. Alexa had noticed Marina eyeing her curiously, probably wondering if Alexa was a wanted criminal of some sort.

"I'm not supposed to ask this but do people want to kill you?" She suddenly asked in a whisper as she handed Alexa some pills along with a cup of water. "Is that why there's a guard outside?"

Alexa shook her head, forcing a smile. "I don't think anyone wants to kill me. At least I hope not."

"We had a shooting two nights ago," Marina added, nervously looking towards the door. "Two men were shot and one of them didn't make it. They were Secret Service men so that's why I'm wondering if you're one of them."

"How do you know they were Secret Service?"

"Nurses talk," the girl said. "Anyway, the one who survived looks like he's been through a fire or something. He's really scary looking and he's under guard, just like you. Not that I'm saying that you're scary looking -"

"That's alright," Alexa smiled, feeling her heart race inside her chest. Did she mean that Mikhael was in the same hospital as her? "I understood what you meant. Have you seen him up close? This scarred man?"

Marina nodded. "Quite horrible looking, if you ask me. I had to bring up his belongings to his room to the ICU yesterday. No James Bond, that's for sure," she said, making a face as she wrote down something on the chart that hung on the edge of Alexa's bed. "He'd been shot in some shoot-out, from what I heard from the other nurses in the lunch room and he'd just come from surgery when someone came to shoot him inside the hospital -"

Alexa suddenly groaned and Marina looked up, surprised. "Is anything the matter?"

"My head suddenly hurts," Alexa said softly, rubbing her temples. "I'm not feeling too well."  
Marina frowned and walked towards Alexa, reaching for the thermometer on the wall and dipping into a box of plastic thermometer covers.

"Let me check your temperature then," she said as she drew closer.

"I'm so sorry I have to do this to you," Alexa whispered. "But you really shouldn't be violating patient privacy like you just did."

And as Marina looked at her, a curious expression on her face, Alexa grabbed her blouse with both hands, pushed her backwards before yanking her back towards her. Tucking her chin into her chest, the nurse's face smashed onto Alexa's crown in a powerful head butt. Marina moaned, her eyes fluttering, and she became limp.

Alexa caught her against the bed before she landed on the floor, cursing under her breath as she did so. She hoped no one had heard the sound of the Marina's facial bones coming into contact with her skull and for a few moments, Alexa waited with a racing heart, but the door remained shut.

Blood streamed down the girl's face, her nose probably broken but Alexa didn't care. She sprang up from the bed and began to undo her hospital gown.

In minutes, Alexa was dressed in the girl's hospital scrubs and the nurse was tucked under the white sheets. She'd left Marina's clogs under the hospital bed, opting to use the boots that she had worn two nights earlier.

"Don't you ever dare call Mischa horrible again," Alexa whispered in the unconscious girl's ear, not caring whether Marina heard her or not.  
Five minutes later, she had found her way up the stairs to the fifth floor and made her way to the intensive care unit, and after a flirtatious joke at the bored guard, here she was, staring at the interior of the hospital closet.

The clear plastic bag containing a leather wallet lay on the middle shelf.

After making sure that the wallet belonged to Mikhael - and it did, for it also contained his old UK drivers license from almost fifteen years earlier identifying him as Michael Jasper Smith - Alexa slipped it into her pocket. She turned to face Mikhael, but before approaching him, she pulled up the medical chart by the foot of his bed, flipping through it quickly.

The scribbles were undecipherable, but Alexa wasn't concerned with Mikhael's medical updates according to the staff. She wanted only to read the surgical procedure that had been performed on him by the surgeons.

She flipped through the section under Surgery and quickly read the notes. The first two bullets had been removed during an earlier surgery but the third one, inflicted at the hospital two nights earlier, had dissected through his abdominal aorta.

Prognosis was slim, Alexa thought. He was in a coma, induced by the doctors to help with his recovery, but it also meant he was helpless against anyone else wanting to kill him for good. She closed the file, peering at the name on the side of the folder.

According to the file, his name was Eddie Bellamy.

Alexa walked towards Mikhael's bedside and reached out to touch his scarred cheek. His skin was cool to the touch, yet his chest rose and fell, matching the rhythm of the ventilator. It was strange touching him like this now, she thought, when two days earlier, she had fled from his touch, every instinct in her body screaming at her to fight him for he was the monster in her dreams, coming back to take her with him.  
Alexa touched his hand, bringing her fingers around his, squeezing them as she leaned closer to him. She turned to look at the guard again but he was talking to a young nurse, his head bent low against her ear. She looked back at Mikhael again. She didn't have enough time.

The memories flooded into her mind and Alexa closed her eyes as she saw them one by one, this time beginning from the moment she'd first seen him at the outdoor Paris market as she took her time selecting a trinket from one of the stalls. She remembered how he'd looked at her then, at first with a sense of awe and then pity at what he was about to do later that day.

The memory that followed took Alexa into the dim recess of the truck as it sped through the outskirts of Paris, where three other girls lay on the floor next to her. One by one men took them roughly, their screams inaudible through their gags. When the man she'd met at the outdoor market approached, Alexa remembered how her whole body trembled as he half dragged, half carried her to the farthest corner of the truck, away from everyone else.

And when he spoke in a harsh whisper, Alexa could still remember how his perfect English left her baffled, caught by surprise even as all around her, the other men, speaking in Russian, raped the other women, the sounds of their muffled cries filling the air.

_What's about to happen to you after tonight is going to be far worse than what you're about to go through right now._ Mikhael covered her mouth with his hand as he continued, his body covering hers as she struggled against him. _But if you want to live, Alexa George, work with me and I'll get you out of this mess the best way I can without killing us both. Do you understand what I just said?_

It was then that Alexa had made her decision, even as the girls around her screamed against their abductors, the sound of a palm coming in contact with a girl's face filling the dank air inside the truck.

Forcing herself back to the present, Alexa let go of his hand, gently smoothing out the intravenous line across his wrist, and turned towards the door. She stopped just as she touched the door knob and looked back at him one last time.  
There was so much she wanted to say to him. But Alexa only smiled sadly as she took a deep breath and opened the door to let herself out.  
It did not matter now whether her handler was alive or not to see her through what she was about to do.

The only thing that mattered now was that Alexa did not fail.

* * *

As she made her way to the closest Underground station, Alexa stumbled, her body slamming against the wall and for a moment, she collected herself, aware that people had stopped to ask her if she was alright. Sweat gathered upon her brow as she nodded, hugging the black jacket she had slipped off its hook along the fourth floor lockers tightly about her. Her vision clouded for a moment and she blinked, forcing herself to focus on one particular spot on the ground.

She forced herself to breathe in long, calm breaths, exhaling from her mouth as visions filled her mind. They were rushing in, she thought, cold panic filling every cell of her body.

Behind her, two men stopped where they stood, pretending to read the headlines of the newspapers that lined the newsstand right next to them, their eyes warily watching her.

A few seconds later the moment passed, and Alexa took a deep breath and began walking briskly, matching the pace of the people around her, blending in with them as they made their way to the train platform. She needed to disappear and she needed to do it fast.

Behind her, the two men who had slowed their pace now sped up, weaving through the crowd of people. With their dark jackets, they looked like any one of the men around them, heading for work. But Alexa had seen them from the corner of her eyes just seconds earlier, moments after she'd allowed the panic to pass.

She recognized the bulge on the side of one of the men's jackets, saw the dark metal of the gun snug in its holster. She knew that whoever they were, they were on their own now that they were now in the Underground. There would be no reception for their phones or wires down here.

But there was someone else as well, Alexa thought. A third person had followed from the hospital and was walking a few meters behind her.

As the doors to the train opened and the passengers disembarked, Alexa made her way into one of the cars and stood just across from the doors, keeping her eyes forward as one of the men entered the same car she was in and sat down on a seat at the far end of the car, while the other stood against the window of the car behind her.

The third one sat right across from Alexa, on one of the seats right by the doors. For a brief moment, their eyes met.

Alexa knew she only had one chance to lose them, and she couldn't make any more mistakes. For her life, up to now, had been nothing but mistakes.

But as she leaned against the metal pole, watching the doors close, Alexa's eyes alighted upon a little boy standing just outside the doors and her heart caught in her chest as she realized how wrong she was.

For there was one thing in her life that had never been a mistake at all. And for that Alexa was grateful.

* * *

Lucas was signing the last of the paperwork in front of the headmaster when his phone beeped. He looked up, apologized briefly and answered the call. He frowned as he listened to Harry on the other end of the line. Lucas glanced at Liam, who was sitting on the oversized chair next to him, his feet hanging above the floor. He was engrossed in a story book, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Are you sure it's her?" Lucas asked, keeping his voice low, and as he listened to Harry's voice on the other line, he signed his name on the last line of the last page of the thick document before him and dated it. "We're just about done here, Harry. We'll head over to the Grid as soon as possible."

As he hung up, the headmaster, Norman Jones, pulled the paperwork towards him. He checked through the forms, ensuring that every line he had marked with a small neon Post-It note with the words 'Sign Here' were all signed and dated. He'd almost used up an entire packet, he told himself as he checked meticulously through each page.

He looked up at Lucas again, noting the man's features and how the child sitting next to him was his exact copy - blue eyes, black hair, even the way he bit his lip as he concentrated on something he was reading before him - the same way Lucas had chewed on his lower lip as he signed all the forms before him.

Why Norman was doing this when what Lucas needed the most was a solicitor, one who specialized in children's law, was something even Norman had asked himself. But when an old university friend as powerful as Harry Pearce requested a favor, Norman knew better than to ask any questions.

After all, it had been Harry who had requested Norman's assistance in getting Liam into St. Barnabas more than a year ago. In the beginning he could not understand Harry's reasoning, for even Norman thought the boy was too young to be enrolled at St. Barnabas even though there were children his own age, but Norman knew enough to keep quiet.

It was fortunate that the boy had adapted quite well at the school, his amiable personality garnering him friends immediately. But after Norman learned that the boy hadn't had a significant father figure in his life other than the seldom-available Harry Pearce, Norman realized that St. Barnabas was the perfect place for the boy to be at this time.

The boy thrived at St. Barnabas, and even Norman had been loathe to admit that Liam George was one of his favorite charges.

But now this stranger had come forward, claiming to be Liam's father. He'd been working out of the country for almost eight years, he said.

But that was all he was willing to divulge that morning. His main concern was to sign the documents that would signify to any legal entity in the United Kingdom who he was to the little boy.

And so Lucas North was Liam's father, Norman thought as he finalized the last of the signatures and nodded towards Lucas. Norman wondered if the man was some random man Alexa had slept with in the past, maybe one of the johns she had entertained during her unfortunate time in Russia.

It was none of Norman's business to entertain such thoughts, but he could not help it. After all, Alexa was the face of Found Hope, which also happened to be one of St. Barnabas most generous benefactors. And though he knew that people did talk about her behind her back, Alexa never paid them any mind.

Norman would do anything for the woman who, if reports were to be believed, had endured six months of being a sex slave in Moscow but instead of hiding her past, had gone ahead and begun a foundation to help others less fortunate than herself.

He remembered how the news of Found Hope's involvement in St. Barnabas had initially made some parents nervous, as if afraid that their own children would be tainted by such an association. He'd even had three parents withdraw their own children, moving them to other boarding schools in the area.

But Alexa was also Harry's god daughter, and that was good enough for Norman. Her father was a former ambassador, he thought, and even governor for something that involved nuclear technology.

But this man was an enigma, Norman thought as he watched Lucas cap the pen and push the papers towards him. How could one be away from his own child for eight straight years? The thought of prison crossed Norman's mind as the tattoo on Lucas' right arm was visible as he signed the papers, having shrugged off his coat at the door.

Norman nodded as he collected the paperwork and slipped it into a manila folder. "Everything seems to be in order, Mr. North," he said as he watched Lucas get up from his chair.

The man was tall, almost lanky, Norman observed, his face drawn and pale, as if he'd spent too long cooped up inside some office. Yet he did not look like some desk clerk. Despite the man's wiry frame, he seemed coiled, ready to attack at the first sign of a threat against him or anyone he loved. And his eyes, Norman saw, were a cool blue when he wanted to be secretive, just as he wanted he to be right now.

_Prison then?_ Norman concluded, but as Lucas met his eyes when they shook hands, something in the depths of his eyes told Norman that it couldn't possibly be prison. The man was no criminal.

Lucas North was one of Harry's men, Norman realized. He was a spook. No wonder Harry wanted all this done quickly and quietly. Yet there was something in him that Norman thought almost tragic.

His eyes told a story, Norman thought.

And for now, it was a sad tale seeking a happy ending.


	30. Chapter 30

The young woman watching Alexa as the train started didn't get this far in the game without using everything that nature gave her. She'd always known that she was smart, though everyone who saw her could hardly get past the beautiful face long enough to find out that she knew more than she pretended not to.

It paid to play dumb in a game that was run by people in positions of power and as far as she could tell, she was still in the game. The man who had sent her on a one-way ticket to London for a chance of a new life, however, was dead.

He'd been shot by Jools Siviter's men two nights earlier and the woman knew that the final phase of the game had begun. This time, there was no turning back and as she glanced at the man sitting in the same train car with Alexa, pretending to read a paperback, she also knew that he, and the man in the next car, belonged to Jools as well.

There had been too many distractions, she thought. Ever since her arrival in London two years earlier, with her first stop at a club in Tottenham, in North London, it had been a struggle to maintain her focus - the real reason for her being here - Alexa George.

* * *

_"I will give you a new life in England, if you want," the older man said to her one night, when she'd been sent as a "present" to cheer him up by the man called Arkady Kachimov, a senior FSB operative. _

_There was no sex or dancing on this night. The man wanted none of that. He had only wanted to talk._

_"Are you familiar with Hamlet?" Nathaniel George asked her that first night as she sat down on the sofa. "'Madness in great ones must not unwatched go.'"_

_She nodded, suspicious at first. She'd had her share of madmen in her line of work and it was always the ones who started out the the nicest who ended up being of the worst kind. But there was a kindness to this man, a sadness even._

_"'That I essentially am not in madness, but mad in craft,'" the old man continued, his eyes looking out at the darkness outside the window. He lived in an expensive apartment, but one that the woman knew was paid for by FSB. This man was under heavy guard and she was surprised that there was no one else in the room with them. But maybe the whole place was bugged, she thought. _

_Then there would be no need for a guard._

_Nathaniel rose from the sofa and turned on the stereo, the strains of classical music that she could not identify filling the room. He beckoned for her to sit next to him and she did._

_"Do you know what those words mean?" He asked her. "What I just said?"_

_She shook her head. She was familiar with Shakespeare and knew what the lines meant, but in what context, she only wanted to hear it from him first. She knew him as Sergei Fenix. That was the name that Arkady had given her._

_"It means that sometimes someone's madness isn't pure madness at all, but a calculated move to make people see one way and not the other."_

_"Their madness is an act then?" _

_Nathaniel nodded. "Precisely." His Russian was perfect, his English accent barely recognizable. "Do you think I am mad?"_  
_She frowned. This was not going well, she thought. But she was going to play along - for now. _

_"It depends on how you define the word 'mad', Sergei."_

_"Call me Nathaniel," he said, grasping her hand in his. "It's time to drop the masks and speak the truth - at least for me. My time is running out, you see."_

_"You are not well?"_

_He shook his head. "No, but it does not matter. The madness I speak of has to do with someone else - my daughter."_

_"Is she here? In Russia?"_

_"She is in London. But like me, she is a prisoner. She has to pretend that she is mad, that she has no knowledge of things that she really knows about. She has to do it if I am to stay alive, just as I have to do things here for the Russians just to keep her alive."_

_That night, Nathaniel told her the truth. Maybe it was out of desperation, she thought. He could have been talking to a spy but it seemed that he was beyond caring. He was dying slowly, he told her, and his daughter had finally come out as the face of a foundation that provided support services to victims of human trafficking - as if as a taunt to her her former captors that yes, she knew what had happened to her. _

_Their time, hers and his, was running out, he said. But he understood her reasons. Just like him, she had probably gotten tired of playing the game - of playing the role of someone afflicted with a madness that had to be so calculated that it probably sapped her of everything she had to maintain it day after day. _

_Would she help him? He had asked her. She would make it out of Moscow on a one-way ticket to London, and there, he would make arrangements for her to be able to stay permanently. To have a new life._

_"Promise me you will complete your task." He had asked of her, never once laying a hand to touch her in a way that most men did, but only looked and talked to her as if he were talking to her - his own daughter._

And so she promised him. Yes, she would do it.

But the distractions had been endless, the woman thought, with a few of them almost costing her her own life.

The train stopped at the next station, and the woman got up and walked through the open doors. Whether Alexa followed her or not, the woman did not turn her head to see. She only continued walking, following the rest of the people as they made their way out of the Underground and onto wherever they were going.

She quickly veered towards the ladies' lavatory and entered, slipping her hand into her purse as she did so, her fingers touching the cool metal handle of a gun. She stood just behind the door and as the door opened, Alexa walked in.

* * *

At the Grid, Harry's section was overstretched. Half of his people were already involved in a surveillance operation involving a Muslin cleric, with junior operative Ben Kaplan in the midst of it, having infiltrated the sect two days ago as a new convert. How long his undercover would go on was indefinite but Harry had allotted the operation a minimum of four weeks with half of his men already in various stations throughout the apartment building where Ben lived with a fellow convert, and the mosque.

Yet now the other half of his section was involved in Alexa's own operation, one that Harry had no knowledge of. It irked him to have witnessed how smoothly she had made her move at the hospital. Everything he thought he knew about his god daughter - no, his daughter - surprised him. Now he had to answer to the hospital administration as to why one of their nurses had been assaulted.

Harry realized as he had watched the CCTV cameras both at the street level just outside the hospital and along the Underground station, that Alexa knew what she was doing. But what irked him the most was that he had no idea what she was planning on doing, and why.

There were no cameras in the station itself and so he was operating blindly, but as soon as Malcolm announced that he had picked up Alexa leaving Victoria station, Harry's sprang into action. He'd sent Jo to pick up Lucas and Liam at St. Barnabas but only Lucas had emerged from the headmaster's office.

"Lucas, where's Liam?" Harry had demanded, struggling to keep the panic from his voice. "Why isn't he with you?"

"He insisted he wanted to return to his classroom," Lucas replied. "With his friends."

"Are you serious?"

Lucas laughed drily. "I'm afraid we aren't high on his list at the moment of 'cool' people, Harry. Even Headmaster Jones agreed that Liam was right. At least he'll stay in school till the weekend when he plays his usual rugby game with his friends." Lucas paused. "I do hope this crisis ends by then."

"Liam chose to stay in school instead of waiting to see his mother?" Harry asked. "Since when did eight year old boys choose school over days off?"

Lucas' voice turned serious as he spoke, his voice lowered. "I think Liam knows something is going on with Alexa. He told me last night that sometimes the monsters came for her."

"Monsters?"

"Letters in the mail that would change Alexa's behavior from sweet loving mum to panicked scared woman. Phone calls from people who hung up when she answered," Lucas replied. "Harry, someone was threatening her all these years. Alexa was living in fear."

Harry nodded, his eyes drifting towards Ros' empty desk.

Ros had gone to Alexa's flat to look for something though she'd refrained from telling Harry what it was until she found it. Ros had insisted that whatever she was looking for would lead to something she had discovered in one of the surveillance photographs of Alexa.

"And it's big, Harry," Ros had said just before she left an hour earlier.

Harry signaled to Malcolm to have the phone call on the speakerphone as he approached Malcolm's desk. "Malcolm just spotted her emerging from the Victoria station, Lucas. You should be close by. Go get her and bring her back here."

"She's going south on King's road, north of Cheltenham," Malcolm said. "She's on foot. I've got her in the CCTV cameras and it's definitely her. She's still wearing the medical scrubs under the jacket from the hospital. There are two men following behind her, Harry, and they're definitely not ours."

Connie stood next to Harry as she, too, watched the CCTV cameras from many different vantage points on Malcolm's computer screen. "I just talked to my contact in the FSB, Harry, and he tells me that their business with Alexa is over. Those men aren't theirs."

"Then whose then?" Harry asked to no one in particular. Though he heard himself ask the question, something deep inside of him already knew the answer.

"They're closing in on her," Malcolm said nervously. "How close are you, Lucas?"

"We just passed Duke of York Square," Lucas mumbled on the line. "One more street -"

Harry could hear Jo saying something in the background to Lucas. "We've got her, Harry."

Harry held his breath as he listened to the sound of the car brakes screeching on the line, the car doors opening as, he assumed, Lucas had run out to grab Alexa. He heard Lucas shout Alexa's name, then something that sounded like a scuffle as the car door slammed shut, and the sound of wheels screeching as Jo stepped on the gas pedal.

Suddenly Lucas cursed.

"Lucas, what is going on?" Harry demanded. "Is she alright?"

They heard someone exclaim in Russian, to which Lucas responded in kind, his voice livid before he called Harry's name. "Harry, they made the switch at the Underground somewhere. We don't have her."

"What do you mean? Who the hell do you have?" Harry demanded.

"Nadia Ravin."

* * *

"For someone who's running out of time, you can be quite slow," Nadia said slowly in Russian as Alexa entered the toilet. "Get in the stall."

Alexa wasn't used to seeing Nadia like this, dressed in a black cropped jacket over a tight red top and a pair of designer jeans. She'd always come to work in conservative suits, though Alexa was well aware of Nadia's history as a prostitute caught in a human trafficking ring in the middle of London.

"Since when did you start telling me what to do, Nadia?" Alexa snapped, irritated.

"Since your father asked me to help rid you of your madness, Alexa. For just like Hamlet, it no longer becomes you," Nadia replied, her response catching Alexa off-guard. She stared at Nadia in disbelief.

"Get in the stall now and start undressing," Nadia ordered. "Just pray that you haven't gained any weight between now and the last time we saw each other three days ago. I think I'm a size smaller than you."  
Within four minutes, both women emerged from their respective toilet stalls in each others' outfits. Alexa sighed, attempting to pull the jacket closed in front of her, but it was apparently too small to even be buttoned completely.

"Who wears these things?" She mumbled.

"They're the latest in style," Nadia replied as she slipped the baseball cap over her hair. "I can't say much about the medical scrubs though."  
She handed Alexa her handbag. "Your father hired me a year and a half ago to help you get over the 'madness,' as he called it. He said you had to pretend to be mad in order to fool everyone else, but he grew tired of waiting for you to wake up and give the Russians what they wanted."

"You could have told me when we first met," Alexa said, her mind trying to comprehend what Nadia had just said. Nadia knew her father, she thought. Alexa would have given anything just to have been able to speak to him again - before the events that had taken place two nights earlier.

"No," Nadia said. "I couldn't tell you anything, Alexa, and even you know why. Everything up to this point - from the time I met you up to now, was planned by your father."

Nadia's face clouded as she thought of what she had just said, knowing that there had been distractions and unplanned developments. No matter how meticulous Nathaniel's plans had been, someone else seemed one step ahead of him.

For even though everything that led Alexa to the brothel where she found Nadia had been planned, Arkady finding Nadia there hadn't.  
Arkady had managed to track Nadia down after Alexa had discovered her - a revelation that had been well arranged by Nathaniel's London contact - and Arkady had used the connection to his advantage, forcing Nadia to spy on Alexa.

It had been Alexa's solicitor, Fred Mortensen, who had suggested that Nadia work for Alexa at Found Hope, as the young Russian girl was extremely intelligent, he said. And after a few interviews and a friendship that had struck between both women, Alexa had taken Nadia under her wing almost immediately.

Though it had all been planned, the woman's friendship with Alexa was something that Nadia cherished most of all for God only knew how much Alexa needed it. The woman was like a loose buoy in a stormy sea, adrift wherever the current took her and never one who was in control of her own life.

Even her own uncle, Harry Pearce who headed Section D of MI5, ran her own life, especially when it came to Liam's care. It was as if no one trusted Alexa's own judgment in anything, and for that Nadia felt sorry for her.

For even Nadia, though she'd been a poor farmer's daughter in a village four hours north of Moscow, had some control over her own life. She was able to live in her own little flat, choose to work for a woman she admired, and care for a boy she loved - Liam. All on her own terms.

Alexa meanwhile had all the trappings of someone wealthy and able to control her own life, but that was nothing but an illusion. She had absolutely no control of her own life, and whatever little control she had over Found Hope, she passed on to a board of trustees a few months earlier, choosing instead to work behind the scenes after being the face of the foundation since it started.

Even Nadia was forced to admit that Nathaniel was right.

Alexa had set up Found Hope as a warning to the men who had stripped her of her own power since returning from Moscow that she did know what was going on, that she did remember the truth even though she'd been tortured for three days at Vauxhall Cross - right under

Harry's nose - to convince her not to remember.

"You didn't know who to trust then, and you still don't know who to trust now - even though people have been in your corner all this time."

"And who is in my corner, Nadia?" Alexa asked bitterly. "Everyone's got an agenda. They always have."

"Harry Pearce, for one. And Lucas North," Nadia replied. "Did you know he risked his parents' lives to find you and contact you?"  
Alexa shook her head. "He planned all this? Getting together with me?"

"I don't know if it was, but it was bound to happen sooner or later," Nadia replied. "You both have a history together - you both have Liam. And Nathaniel wasn't Arkady's only prized prisoner. Lucas was his favorite. Your father tasked Lucas to find you before the Russians lost their patience with you and Tiresias. He was willing to take Tiresias away from you and be branded a traitor for doing so because his time - and yours - was running out."

"Just before Lucas was returned to London," Nadia continued. "I received a message from Nathaniel instructing me to move his parents to one of your father's properties in Cumbria. And that's where they still are - until all this is over."  
"It's not over until Arkady is dead," Alexa said bitterly. "Do you know the things he did to me?"

"Arkady is dead," Nadia said as she headed for the door. They had taken too much time already, she thought. The men following Alexa would have gotten suspicious by now.

Suddenly the door burst open and they froze, Alexa's hand dipping into the handbag, her fingers wrapping around the handle of the gun. It was a mother pulling a young five year old girl behind her and as they rushed into one of the stalls, Nadia heaved a sigh of relief.

"Your godfather took care of Arkady," Nadia said.

"How do you know that?"

"Your father told me on the night he died. He thought maybe you could finally move on with your life knowing he's dead. And that now, you only have to worry about the chess master himself," Nadia said as she made her way towards the door. "You do know who he is, don't you?"

Alexa said nothing, confused by what she had just heard. She'd never suspected Nadia of being anything but a hapless Russian girl caught in the web of human trafficking, she thought.

But before Alexa could say anything, Nadia dashed out of the toilet, heading towards the direction of the station exit. As Alexa's heart beat wildly inside her chest, she leaned against the wall, trying to process the information that the younger woman had just given her.

Alexa waited for a few minutes, allowing the mother and daughter to leave the toilet before her before taking a deep breath and opening the door. She looked both ways to make sure that the two men who had followed her earlier were gone. She waited for a crowd of people heading towards the trains walk past her and slipping quietly behind them, allowed herself to blend in.

Of course Alexa knew who the chess master was, she thought. She could finally allow herself to think of him, now that Arkady was gone. For though it meant that her life was still in danger, it somehow made her memories more bearable knowing that the monster who had scarred her back and tortured her was gone.

It left only one more man to worry about, she thought - the one man who was more dangerous than Arkady - the chess master who had started the whole mess more than twenty years earlier, before she had found herself in Moscow, and long before her mother was killed.

And though Mikhael had said that Alexa was the queen to Lucas' king in the deadly chess game that was currently being played out, Mikhael had gotten one little fact all wrong.

Lucas had never been the king on that board.

It had always been Mikhael.

And maybe, as long as Mikhael and more importantly, what he created in Alexa - Nephthys - was alive, she could live long enough to see the chess master fail.


	31. Chapter 31

It was close to ten thirty that morning when Ros finally returned to the Grid. Harry was seated behind his desk, his brow furrowed with worry as he waited for word about Alexa. Ever since he'd found out that Nadia had been the woman Lucas and Jo retrieved a few blocks from Victoria Station instead of his god daughter, Harry had forced himself to control his temper, retreating into his office until Malcolm could find Alexa again.

Harry forced himself to remember the events of the night he'd brought Alexa back to the Grid after the four-hour flight from Moscow. For now, as news of her disappearance from the Underground station began to sink in, Harry could not help but force himself to remember that night.

Something had happened that night, Harry thought, even though he'd refused to admit it then. But with today's events, Harry knew that he had to start believing the possibility that there was more to Alexa than just the innocent god daughter he had always seen her to be.  
Harry still remembered Alexa's broken arm and how the flight attendants had fashioned a sling for her. He recalled how emaciated she looked, her cheekbones dominating her pale face and the missing teeth.

After Lucas had reported that he'd found Alexa a few days earlier in some third-rate club, and that the man responsible for her abduction and imprisonment seemed to have some sort of protection from FSB, Harry had tried his best to pull as many powerful strings as he could to punish the man. He remembered how he hated Mikhael Lubienko then, and how he wished the man dead.

Whether he was effective or not with his influence on any contacts he had at that time, Harry would not know then, although years later, he'd find out that Mikhael was sent to prison after all, where he would end up maimed by fellow prisoners, his face scarred forever.

As he sat behind his desk, Harry forced himself to focus on that night and only Alexa alone. What had she done the moment she stepped foot inside Section D, he asked himself. Had he let her out of his sight at all?

_"Uncle Harry, can I get on the internet?"_

_"Hmm?" Harry had been lost in his own thoughts as one of the junior operatives handed Alexa a cup of tea. They were sitting inside his office, him behind his desk and Alexa right in front of him, still holding a Russian nesting doll and book in her arms which she had refused to let go of the entire time. Harry tried to remember the book's title but couldn't. _

_"It's been six months since I've been online," Alexa said softly, lowering her head as if embarrassed. She was sitting in front of his desk, her thin form covered by Harry's own coat while he waited for Zoe, one of his operatives, to get her a change of clothes. _

_Harry smiled as he typed his own password to unlock his computer. He clicked on the icon for the internet browser. "Now I don't want any 'Living the Vida Loca' on my computer when I get back," he said teasingly as he got up and pulled his own chair back so Alexa could sit down. _

_She was still a teen-ager, he thought. The internet was a Pandora's box of surprises, and he couldn't blame her for wanting to check out what was going on with the world. Besides, Harry had just spotted Jools Siviter from the corner of his eye entering the Grid, standing inside the pod as the computers analyzed to see if the man had anything on him had anything that warranted review. _

_Harry excused himself abruptly, shutting the door behind him securely as he faced Jools, who had been heading for his office. "What are you doing here, Jools?" He asked curtly. "Isn't it a bit late for you to be out and about?"_

_"Two thirty in the morning," Jools said. "Nothing's too early when I hear that you've been able to secure your god daughter back. Is Lucas North back from Russia?"_

_Harry frowned. "Now why would you want to know that? Last time I looked, North worked for Five, not Six."_

_Jools raised an eyebrow. "As long as North stays out of my agents' way in Moscow, we will both work together just fine, Harry. But for now, I need to talk to Alexa."_

_Harry found himself blocking the door to his office. "And why do you want to speak to her, Jools?"_

_"Mikhael Lubienko is a dangerous man, Harry," Jools replied. "I want to know what she knows before she forgets the facts. You know how some prisoners develop a soft spot for their captors. Besides, he's been on our watch list for some time now and he's responsible for the deaths of three of my men in Moscow."_

_"Tonight is not the time for any debriefing, Jools," Harry said. "I want Lubienko as bad as you do, but we need to give her some time. I won't allow having her subjected to anything drastic tonight. The poor girl needs to rest."_

_Harry turned to look at Alexa through the glass wall of his office. She was facing away from the door, his coat still engulfing her as she sat before the computer. Her head was bowed low, as if she were looking at something on her lap._

_Jools took a step back, his chin held high. Jools wasn't used to being refused any of his commands, but he was also inside MI5. He wasn't ruling his own roost across the Thames at Vauxhall Cross._

_"The doctor will be coming to pick her up shortly," Jools said as Harry stared at him, surprised. "This is protocol, Harry. She needs to be debriefed, and medically examined."_

_"For what? She's a victim, for God's sake, not an enemy combatant, Jools. She needs to be afforded some rest and privacy."_

_Jools scoffed. "Just because she's your god daughter does not make her exempt from protocol, Harry. She still needs to go through debriefing and the medical check up is necessary to make sure that she's okay, that she's not bringing some disease from god knows -"_

_"Oh, shut up, Jools," Harry snapped. "Now if you'll be so kind as to wait outside and I will let you know when she is ready."_

Harry leaned back against his chair, inhaling deeply as he did so. He hadn't entered his office right then, he remembered now. He had waited till Jools skulked out of the office, the arrogant man throwing him a look right before turning the corner.

Harry had then gone to Malcolm's desk to check out something he was reviewing on his computer. How long Harry had allowed Alexa to be in his office alone he couldn't remember, but it couldn't have been more than twenty minutes.

Ros entered his office and sat down in front of him. She was holding the envelope that had been couriered to him a few nights earlier and as Harry watched her, she pulled out a photograph and handed it to him.

"What is Nephthys?"

Harry looked at the photograph of Alexa and Lucas, her naked back to the camera and for a moment, Harry looked away. But there was something that made him look again. He peered at the photograph, focusing on the tattoo on Alexa's back. He'd never noticed it before, he thought. But then Harry did not make it a habit to stare at the naked body of a woman who could be his daughter.

But as he read the words tattooed on her back, he knew.

"Tell me about Nephthys, Harry," Ros asked again and this time Harry looked up at her, placing the photograph on the desk in front of him. He took a deep breath, wondering where he would begin.

Well, something inside Harry said, begin at the beginning.

"Eleven years ago, there was a rumor going in within MI6 that Michael Smith, one of Six's top deep cover agents, had turned traitor."

"Mikhael Lubienko," Ros said.

Harry nodded. "That was his legend. He'd been sent there two years previously by Jools' predecessor to relay information back to England. He'd entrenched himself quite well into Russian life, got married and right before we heard the news of his betryal, even had a son. The perfect cover."

Harry sighed. He got up and walked towards the bar to pour himself a scotch. He lifted a glass for Ross but she shook her head. "When Jools started running the show, things seemed to go downhill from there. There were too many botched operations, misinformation, and most importantly, there were some illegal dealings involving nuclear arm sales that went on right under Mikhael's nose."

"That must have ticked Mikhael off," Ros said. "I hear he was the top of his field."

"Yes, he was. And so he set up his operation, independent of his handler, and worse, without Jools' knowledge. Mikahel was so used to the way the old boss ran the show that he just went on as if Jools had never taken over." Harry took a sip, allowing the scotch to smoothly flow down his throat. He sat back down.

"Six months later, Jools denounced him as a traitor, and revealed proof that Mikhael worked for the KGB. According to Jools, Mikhael had killed three MI6 agents and his own family before going into hiding. The next time we heard about Mikhael, he was already working with the FSB."

"Nine years ago, I brought Alexa back from Russia and all she had in her possession was a book, a nesting doll and a Russian pop music CD. I left her in my office for about twenty minutes and during that time, I believe now that she was the one who uploaded a file report by Mikhael Lubienko called Nephthys. At that time, we'd thought that someone had hacked the systems, since we'd had had a few attempts that week alone, and we were still getting used to the new equipment," Harry began. "The report detailed an operation that Mikhael had set up at a dacha just outside of Moscow after receiving a tip that it would be the site of nuclear arms negotiations - the under the table kind, if you know what I mean."'

Ros did not say anything. She watched as Harry appeared to choose his words carefully.

"The file contained highly detailed surveillance transcripts of conversations between people we have long suspected of illegal arms dealing - and one of our own."

There was silence between them as Ros mulled Harry's words over, though she didn't need too much time to do so. She'd already known it the moment she'd seen the smarmy man walk through the pods a few nights ago.

"Jools Siviter," Ros said. "That's why he's back in the picture all of a sudden, isn't he? So what did you do with the report, Harry?"

"There was nothing I could do without ruining my own reputation, Ros," Harry said. "The report was detailed, yes. It had photographs, yes. But I needed actual recordings. If Mikhael was able to transcribe the meetings and write it all down, then I needed the real thing."

Ros' brow furrowed. "Mikhael would be too smart to include everything with one messenger," she said. "He'd have ensured that she bring one part of the report, and the recordings would have had to be delivered another way."

"Well, even if that had been Mikhael's plan, it would never have worked," Harry said bitterly. "I found out three days later that Jools had illegally held Alexa against her will at Vauxhall Cross for interrogation. I was able to put a stop to it but by then the damage was done. The girl was incoherent. She didn't know who she was, and she was hysterical. She saw Mikhael everywhere, as if he were the devil. It was as if her memory had been tampered with."

He sighed. "There were three psychologists in that room with her, and all three declared her mentally unstable, that whatever Alexa said would not be able to stand in any court."

"Surely you could have reported Jools to the JIC," Ros said softly. The Joint Intelligence Committee oversaw all the secret service divisions, including MI5 and MI6. "She was tortured inside that room, Harry."

Harry shook his head. Sweat had gathered on his brow and he wiped it with a handkerchief. "I don't know, Ros. But I was faced with a huge problem. If Alexa brought back the Nephthys report and uploaded it into my computer, a report that accuses the head of MI6 of treason, and I myself report him to the JIC, do you know how that would make me look? She's my god daughter."

Harry sighed. "Besides, by the time she calmed down and I asked her about Nephthys, she just looked at me like I had sprouted horns. When I mentioned Mikhael's name, she would start screaming. Nathaniel almost had her committed."

Harry's face was pained as he remembered those days, days when he'd rush to the George household to calm Nathaniel down and convince him not to do anything so drastic. The girl was broken, he remembered telling Nathaniel. She needed time.

"Harry," Ros' voice broke through his reverie. "I'm sure you didn't let this one go. Knowing a high level officer is involved in dealings that go against the Non-Proliferation Treaty isn't something you can ignore. Not you. It's the reason why you do what you do, to stop people like him."

Harry nodded. "You're right, Ros. I didn't just let it go. Even though I couldn't submit that report to the JIC, I could at least get more substantial proof."

"And did you?" Ros asked. "Send someone to get more proof?"

But even as Ros asked the question, she stopped, catching herself. Of course Harry had sent someone to Russia to get more proof, she thought.

Only he didn't come back till eight years later.

* * *

"Where is she?" Lucas demanded angrily as Jo sped along Seven Sisters Road, her eyes on the rear view mirror to make sure that they had not been followed.

Grabbing Nadia from the street had been quick. It had taken the two men following her by surprise. By the time they made their way through the crowd towards them, Lucas had shoved the woman he assumed as Alexa into the back of the car and jumped in right behind her. But as soon as Lucas discovered the deception, his face turned bright red, his eyes flashing dark blue as he pulled her baseball cap from her head.

He hung up the phone after telling Harry the news that Nadia and Alexa had somehow made the switch somewhere between the hospital and Victoria station, his eyes never leaving the woman who sat calmly before him, dressed in medical scrubs and an oversized black coat.

Lucas grabbed her arm but Nadia did not resist him. She was not going anywhere. This was the reason why she was here, Nadia thought.

"Where is she?" Lucas demanded again. He dug his hands inside her jacket pockets, patting her to make sure that she wasn't carrying any weapons - not that it would have made a difference to Lucas. He was beyond caring as he roughly brought his hands across her body, not caring whether his touch was inappropriate or not.

A piece of paper fell from one of the jacket pockets onto the floor board between them. Lucas reached for the card and stopped as he looked at it. A chill came over him.

The business card featured a _fleur de lis_ logo and the name Близнецы.

"Gemini," Lucas breathed, reading the Russian text easily. Russian culture and language had been one of his specialties, and one of the strongest traits that got him immediately hired into MI5. "Where'd you get this?"

"Alexa was holding it while she was in the metro," Nadia said. "She left it inside the coat. This coat. Before we switched clothing."  
Lucas read the address printed below it and turned the card over. He held his breath as his eyes alighted upon the handwritten word on it.

Nephthys.

"Is this is where she's going?" Lucas demanded, his eyes boring into Nadia's. "Did she say anything else?"

Nadia did not answer. She only nodded. She'd heard about Lucas North and about the eight years he'd been imprisoned in Russia, and of the tortures he'd had to endure. Nathaniel had told Nadia as much, just as he had added that he knew Lucas had been betrayed by someone in MI5, falling into a perfectly set up trap in Moscow that had him held at Lushanka prison for eight years.

Suddenly Lucas ordered Jo to stop the car. As Jo parked the car at the first space she could find on the main strip of road, Lucas opened the door and leapt out. "Take her to the Grid and make sure she stays there," he ordered.

"Lucas!" Jo called out, "wait!"

She watched his slim figure blending in with the crowd that had formed along the entrance the an Underground station. It was no point calling for him now, Jo thought as she looked at Nadia who had leaned back and snapped her seatbelt across her body, her eyes looking straight ahead.

Lucas was gone.


	32. Chapter 32

Lucas hardly paid attention to anything around him as he stood by the double doors of the train. He couldn't allow himself to sit down. He just couldn't. Every nerve in his body was on fire, every alarm set as his mind threatened to take him back there again. His fists clenched and unclenched as he fought the memories from rushing in, his face turning numb at the mere realization of the onslaught of memories about to happen.

Finally, he slipped weakly onto the nearest seat and leaned back, taking a deep breath. He rubbed his face, stopping only to watch other people's faces around him, but seeing nothing but disinterested blank stares into the space in front of them.

Lucas could have driven back to the Grid with Jo and Nadia. And he would have, had Lucas not seen the business card that fell from Nadia's coat pocket. Gemini, it had read, and from the moment his eyes saw the card and read the words, Lucas knew then that he needed to be alone.

Gemini had been the name of the club that Mikhael owned. It had been the club where he'd found Alexa nine years earlier.

Lucas gasped, his chest tightening as a vision flashed inside his head. The flashback had threatened to consume him inside the car, right in front of Nadia and Jo, and he couldn't afford anyone seeing him like this. Lucas knew then that he had to get out of the car and get some fresh air.

He didn't want them to see him break into a cold sweat, his lower lip trembling as he shut his eyes only to see the visions return to him once more, like they did at three in the morning, when he lay in bed trying to sleep a dreamless sleep.

Lucas leaned forward, resting his head between his hands, not wanting anyone to see him as he fought back the tears. His breath came in raggedly, and he forced himself to exhale through his mouth, long deep breaths that he knew would calm him down immediately.

In a busy morning train, he didn't care who saw him in such a state. But in a car with a colleague and a witness, he could not risk them seeing him like this at all. He didn't know how long he sat there like that but as soon as Lucas heard the voice on the speaker announcing the next stop, he knew that more than ten minutes had already gone by - time that went by in what seemed like hours as the vision appeared before his eyes.

This time, the vision had taken him deep into Lushanka prison, during the first two days of his incarceration, where he had struggled to keep up his legend - Dimitri Ilyakov - intact, confident that he was safe, that there'd been a mistake.

They came into Lucas' cell on the third day and dragged him into a dark room, strapped him onto a a wooden plank and there, a woman began grilling him about Sugar Horse. He begged them then. He knew nothing. His name was Dimitri Ilyakov and he was merely a contractor brought in from Ukraine. He knew nothing.

It was when they called him by his real name did Lucas finally realize that maybe this time, the game was up. This time, they finally got him.

Lucas North, they said. We know who you are. Your own boss told us your name and where to find you. And the man you seek - Mikhael Lubienko - he is where you and your boss can ever find him at all. He is dead.

And that was when Lucas knew, as they draped the cloth over his face and began pouring the water over it, water seeping into his nose as he screamed for help that would never come, that this time, he'd been betrayed.

Only one man had known he was in Russia, he thought. And that man had betrayed him.

Lucas snapped back to the present and looked out the window, watching the walls outside the train whiz past him. Since returning from Russia, nothing was ever a coincidence anymore, he thought, and the business card was one of them. Even if it had not fallen from Nadia's coat pocket, they would have discovered it the moment they'd get her into the Grid and into one of the interrogation rooms.

By then, he thought, they'd be too late. Alexa would be long gone. Or dead.

This way, Alexa was only less than ten minutes ahead of Lucas. It was much better than giving her a full hour head start and losing her in the process.

He pulled out his phone but knew that there would no reception down in the Underground at all, not until he'd get up to the station.

Absently, his thumb rubbed the smooth face of the mobile phone as Lucas allowed his mind to finally go there, to the man who could have betrayed him.

_"I need you to go back to Moscow, Lucas," Harry said as Lucas entered his office._

_The statement took him by surprise and he found himself stopping, his hand still on the door knob, as if he were considering simply walking back out and pretending he hadn't heard what he had just heard._

_"What for? We got Alexa back," Lucas said in a controlled voice as he sat down on the chair facing Harry's desk. He was tired, having just returned from Russia less than a week earlier and having had to work at the Grid immediately._

_His wife, Elizabeta, had not been pleased at all by the length and suddenness of his 'business trips' as he had called them, and already the strain was showing early in their marriage. Lucas loved her for her honesty, yet it was the one thing he could not give her, at least not yet._  
_Lucas swallowed nervously, and licked his lips as Harry pulled out some papers in front of him. "I've received intelligence about the illegal sale of nuclear materials, and I need you to return to Russia to get the second part of the report. Proof that certain exchanges exist."_

_"What kind of proof are we talking about?"_

_"Recordings, both video and audio," Harry replied. "We have transcripts from the recordings and some grainy photographs, but I need the source. I want the intelligence to be solid when it's presented to the JIC."_

_"So how do I get this ... proof?"_

_"You're flying to Russia to find Mikhael Lubienko," Harry began as Lucas' back straightened stiffly at the mention of the man's name. "I need you to find him again and get the tapes from him."_

_Lucas stared at Harry, unable to believe what he'd just heard. Mikhael was the last person Lucas had wanted to meet again, and if he could manage it, he would never have to run into him either. "He's the dirtiest, most dangerous FSB asset I've ever met, Harry. I can't believe you want to be involved with him and what he knows."_

_Harry nodded. "I understand what you're trying to say, Lucas, but I'm going to have to ask you to go back there and track him down again. You're the only person who's seen him since he started working for the FSB."_

_"And what makes you think he's going to work with me?"_

_"Because I sent you," Harry replied. "He'll know why when he sees you again."_

_"And what am I looking for?" Lucas asked._

_"It's called Operation Nephthys," Harry replied, handing Lucas a file folder. "It involves the illegal sale of nuclear materials to countries outside of the Non Proliferation Treaty, assisted by one of our own."_

_Lucas looked up at Harry, surprised. He opened the folder and began to look through the pages. He frowned. "This report is censored, Harry" he said, referring to the blacked out words throughout the page. "How do you expect me to do what I need to do if I don't even get to know what's going on?"_

_"Lucas, the only thing blackened out in that file report is the name of a high-ranking operative whose name I can't as yet allow to be spoken of outside of this office," Harry said. "Not until I get the recordings from Mikhael."_

_"This 'one of our own' is that high up in the ranks?"_

_Harry nodded. "One of the highest positions. That's why I need to be careful. There were whisperings when Mikhael was first revealed to be traitor that he'd been set up, that he'd discovered a mole deep inside the secret service and this was their way of getting back at him. Destroy him so that he'd have no choice but sell himself to the FSB, which he did. But whether what he discovered is true or not, I still need proof."_

_Lucas frowned. "Harry, this is the same man who tortured your own god daughter, who kidnapped her and sold her for sex again and again, and humiliated her. How can you even trust a man like Mikhael Lubienko? The man is traitor to the country, there is no denying that. Whatever he did for the good of his country as far as I'm concerned, became nonexistent the moment he kidnapped a British national and held her against her will, raped her and sold her according to his mood."_

_Lucas got up and began to pace angrily. "He's killed three of his own agents, Harry, and who knows how many more? How can you even risk trusting him over some report he wrote hoping you'd give him some leniency for releasing your god daughter?"_

_Lucas was shaking. He rubbed his jaw anxiously. "You sent me to find Alexa alone, Harry, because you knew the JIC would never have sanctioned the search in the first place. That's why you and I came up with a bogus operation. But it also meant that I was alone, that if I ever was caught, I was on my own."_

_Lucas stopped pacing, this time facing the wall, away from the windows where he knew many of the people working on the Grid had probably already bore witness to his outburst. "It also means that this time, if I go and search for this...Nephthys, it's more dangerous than just searching for an eighteen-year old girl."_

_"That's enough, Lucas," Harry said angrily. Harry kept his gaze firmly on Lucas' blue-gray eyes. He felt Lucas' anger simmering just beneath the surface, saw the vein that throbbed just along his temple._

_"You have a point. In fact, you've got a few, Lucas. And as much as I love Alexa and I hate what happened to her, I still have a responsibility to uphold and that is the overall safety and security of the British people. If there is a high-level mole within the secret service, one who has been undermining our very own operations here and abroad, then that means that there's more of them. That means they are everywhere, even here in Section D."_

_Harry took a deep breath and gazed at Lucas. "Trusting Mikhael Lubienko is a risk I'm willing to take."_  
_"Then you take it, Harry," Lucas said abruptly. "You go to Russia. Not me."_

_Harry said nothing as Lucas left the room and walked out of the Grid. Lucas knew everyone had been watching him then, their eyes pinned on their chief operative grabbing his coat and leaving even though he'd just arrived a few minutes earlier._

_And for two hours, Lucas walked the streets of London, immersing himself in the sights, sounds and smells of the city he called home, knowing that such things had shaped him and made him what he was. There was no denying it - Lucas loved London, and he loved the life he'd managed to build for himself and Elizabeta within it._

_But as he had sat in Harry's office during that meeting, Lucas had felt a sliver of fear grip him, something that told him that maybe this time, there was a chance that he would not be returning. It had been such an odd feeling that it took a moment for Lucas to shake it, not till after he stormed out of Harry's office, wondering what had gotten over him to do such a thing._

_Fear was one of the most powerful weapons in a spook's arsenal. Without it, he'd never know what danger looked, smelled, or tasted like. Fear was a warning signal from one's brain, telling him to watch out when it was no longer safe and when to take precautions._

_Yet this time it was different and Lucas couldn't put a finger on it. The fear was more real this time, with a darker, more unknown edge to it. Was he going to let fear to take over him? He wondered._

_As he sat on a park bench watching children scamper about in a playground before him, their parents and caregivers hovering in the perimeter, lost in conversations with one another yet their watchful eyes ever on their charges, Lucas allowed himself to shut his eyes for a moment._

_And as he did, Lucas found himself staring at a pair of Alexa's sea-green eyes just a few weeks earlier when he had first discovered her in one of Mikhael's lesser known clubs, telling him without words what dangerous waters he was in, where things weren't what they seemed._  
_In the end, Lucas returned to the Grid and sat in front of Harry again, and this time he said yes._

_It had been an easy decision in the end, for Lucas knew that Harry was right. He could not let the fear of never returning to stop him from doing what he did best. This was why he had entered the secret services, the same reason he was returning to Russia at such a time of political unrest._

_A high-level mole could spell disaster for everyone concerned, and all their operations were at risk. If there were high-level moles, Harry was right to ask the question - how many more low-level ones could there by, already infiltrating through the ranks of the secret service, even within Section D?_

Lucas got off at the Seven Sisters station and made his way onto the main road as quickly as he could. As soon as he got out of the Underground, he pulled out his phone and dialed the Grid. Lucas couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd been in the area of northern London and he didn't want to be going around in circles when he did not have the luxury of time.

When Malcolm answered, Lucas heaved a sigh. Malcolm was just the person he had wanted to speak to.

"I need you to help me with an address, Malcolm," he said, and before Malcolm could say anything, Lucas rattled off the address. "I'm just outside Seven Sisters station and I don't have enough time."

Lucas heard the sound of Malcolm's fingers tap dancing on his computer keyboard in the background.

"Where is Harry?" He asked.

"Harry stepped out," Malcolm said before telling him where to find the address he'd just been given. According to Malcolm, Genesis was only five blocks to the west of him.

Lucas thanked Malcolm but before he could hang up, he heard Ros' voice on the line. "Lucas, where are you? Is this about Nephthys?"

Lucas stopped walking. He was right in front of an African-European hair salon which was flanked by a chicken wing eatery and a car alarm shop. He turned to face the street, his eyes scanning the area around him. Though he knew that Alexa was more than ten minutes ahead of him, he couldn't stop himself from scanning the street around him for her face.

"Lucas," Ros continued when Lucas did not say anything. "Nephthys was tattooed on Alexa's back so I do know what's going on but you need to tell me what is happening with you and Alexa so I can help you. That's where she's going, isn't it?"

Without answering her question immediately, Lucas began walking again. A woman with track marks all along her arms was making her way towards him but he quickened his pace and from the corner of his eyes, Lucas saw her stop and lean against a street corner, having given up on following him.

"It's a brothel, Ros. It's the same brothel Alexa discovered Nadia two years ago," he said, remembering the name Gemini from Alexa's file a few days earlier. "If Nephthys is in there, then that means that everything - even Nadia being in London, Alexa helping her get her British citizenship - someone maneuvered everything to happen the way they did. They could have been trying to get her to remember all that time. It can't be all just a coincidence."

"Jo just called," Ros said. "She's on her way in the Nadia as we speak."

"Keep Nadia on the Grid and get as much information from her about Alexa and even Nathaniel. She knows too much to just be some human trafficking victim according to Alexa's file."

"Nathaniel was photographed with a young woman that looks like Nadia three years ago," Ros said, her attention drawn to a grainy photograph of an older man standing next to a petite blonde woman at a gathering that included a few heads of state that popped up on Malcolm's computer screen. For a few moments, Ros stared at the image on the screen.

Nathaniel had been right under their very noses, Ros thought as she recognized the many familiar faces in the photograph. It had been taken at a political party that included a British consul, which meant that Jools' men most likely had been assigned to guard the consul himself. Could they have been aware of Nathaniel's presence in the same room?

She frowned. It would have been impossible to have missed Nathaniel George in such a gathering - a man who was supposed to be dead walking and talking among the living.

In the background, Malcolm muttered something, and Ros turned to look at him, reading a piece of paper he thrust in front of her. Someone's listening, it read.

"Lucas," Ros said carefully. "We have a little rat problem right now. Be very careful."

The realization of Ros' words hit him like a kick to the gut and he cursed. He hung up the phone and began running, following Malcolm's directions.

_Rat problem_. Just another way of saying that the line had been bugged.

A few nights ago, Alexa had told him that there were moles everywhere, even inside Thames House. At first he had refused to believe her for what did she know? She was only a young woman with no knowledge of the goings-on inside Thames House, inside the Grid or Section D for that matter.

Yet all that had changed in a matter of hours, Lucas thought as he sped his pace along the teeming streets of southern London, thinning now as he approached a street lined with houses. By calling the Grid, he'd inadvertently led whoever had bugged the lines straight to Alexa.

Shit, he cursed again, turning a corner and knowing that he had two more blocks to go. What have I done?

* * *

Even at midmorning, the brothel never slept. Men came and went, as they always did, and the music blared from the cheap speakers perched along the walls of the main room. Two metal poles were situated on each end of the room, surrounded by a half-circle of burgundy velvet sofas.

Three men lolled about on one of the sofas, their mouths hanging open as a young woman wearing only a sequined pair of thongs danced in front of them. A cheap necklace hung around her neck, the fake stones glistening between her breasts as she moved to the music. Her eyes looked half open, her pupils dilated from the hit she'd just had a few minutes earlier.

She was flying, and she didn't give a damn about the men ogling her.

Another woman was dancing by the other pole, and a man was dancing with her, already drunk in midmorning. He was supposed to be at some meeting, but he'd ditched that after his host had suggested he come to the Gemini for some fun. And fun he was having.

The girl he was dancing with seemed wholly interested in him, her bloodshot eyes seeming to watch him as he danced with her. She was dressed in a baby doll outfit, the flouncy skirt too short to hide the curve of her buttocks, though no one was complaining.

Downstairs, a figure moved in the semi-darkness, the back door lock being the perfect match for the key that Mikhael had slipped into his wallet. A floorboard creaked under the weight of her and she paused, waiting for somebody to rush out.

A few seconds later, Alexa made her way down to the basement where she knew with grim certainty she'd find Mikhael's belongings there. Gemini would have been the only place where he'd have been able to hide for some time, she thought. His face had been too disfigured to have allowed him to move about freely without being noticed.

In the basement, there were two doors and the first one she tapped open gently with her foot led to the laundry room where two washers were going through the initial wash cycle while the dryer was tumbling noisily. Brothels needed laundry service, she thought. There was no need to send the work out when it could be done in-house.

Alexa slowly made her way to the remaining door and slipped it open, holding her breath as she did so. A light from a small lamp flickered in the corner and she walked in, shutting the door behind her as she did so.

She leaned against the door, afraid to do anything else but stand there for a few minutes, straining to listen for anything that would alert her that she was not alone. As her eyes grew accustomed to the dim light, she finally looked at the room and held her breath.

The room was bare except for a single bed along one side of the wall, a pillow where she could still make out the outline of Mikhael's head where he had lain his head last. Beneath the bed was a backpack and Alexa knelt down and zipped it open. Inside were some shirts and as she continued to rummage through its contents, finally turning the backpack upside down so that everything inside spilled out onto the cold cement floor, she found what she was looking for.

It was a doll, an old one from what she could see. Its hair was matted and one movable eye was permanently skewed to one side. Alexa had told Mikhael how her mother had hidden the list of names of Harry's Sugar Horse assets inside her doll years earlier and she found herself smiling for he had not forgotten it.

She twisted the head off and turned the body upside down. Three thumb drives tumbled onto her palm.

Alexa unzipped the pocket of the backpack. She retrieved a condom packet, a tube of lubricant and something that looked like a giant pill, two oval cones that fit together to resemble something that you popped into your mouth.

Alexa's mouth grew dry as she realized what they were for.

There are always places to hide things you don't want them to find the first time they catch you, he'd taught her years earlier. And he'd been right all those times.

She swallowed nervously. Alexa popped open the plastic case and dropped the thumb drives inside. Then, tearing open the condom wrapper with her teeth, she unrolled it and slipped the plastic case inside. Wasn't this the same way drugs were transported through Customs? she mused and proceeded to unbutton her jeans.

When it was done, Alexa walked to the sink to wash her hands. She took one last look around the room. There was nothing else in the room that characterized the room as Mikhael's, she thought. Spartan at best, the only other thing that caught her eye was a photograph that stared back at her from the far wall of the room, stark in its composition and arrangement.

She really should get moving, Alexa thought, but her legs felt like leg, rooted to the ground where she stood as the image that looked back at her sent her somewhere so far away, from so long ago. But Alexa couldn't.

As if transfixed, she walked towards it, staring.

In black and white, the image it held was grim and needed no reminder for her as she stared at it, for it brought her back to a world so long ago, when she trusted only him.

Two words held the secret to that photograph, words that only she and Mikhael knew of. Three days ago, it had all come back to her on the ship that would have taken them both far away from here. Now, it served only to remind her of a life that she had lived so long ago, when there was only one man she trusted.

_Don't move._


	33. Chapter 33

Lucas hardly paid attention to anything around him as he stood by the double doors of the train. He couldn't allow himself to sit down. He just couldn't. Every nerve in his body was on fire, every alarm set as his mind threatened to take him back there again. His fists clenched and unclenched as he fought the memories from rushing in, his face turning numb at the mere realization of the onslaught of memories about to happen.

Finally, he slipped weakly onto the nearest seat and leaned back, taking a deep breath. He rubbed his face, stopping only to watch other people's faces around him, but seeing nothing but disinterested blank stares into the space in front of them.

Lucas could have driven back to the Grid with Jo and Nadia. And he would have, had Lucas not seen the business card that fell from Nadia's coat pocket. Gemini, it had read, and from the moment his eyes saw the card and read the words, Lucas knew then that he needed to be alone.

Gemini had been the name of the club that Mikhael owned. It had been the club where he'd found Alexa nine years earlier.

Lucas gasped, his chest tightening as a vision flashed inside his head. The flashback had threatened to consume him inside the car, right in front of Nadia and Jo, and he couldn't afford anyone seeing him like this. Lucas knew then that he had to get out of the car and get some fresh air.

He didn't want them to see him break into a cold sweat, his lower lip trembling as he shut his eyes only to see the visions return to him once more, like they did at three in the morning, when he lay in bed trying to sleep a dreamless sleep.

Lucas leaned forward, resting his head between his hands, not wanting anyone to see him as he fought back the tears. His breath came in raggedly, and he forced himself to exhale through his mouth, long deep breaths that he knew would calm him down immediately.

In a busy morning train, he didn't care who saw him in such a state. But in a car with a colleague and a witness, he could not risk them seeing him like this at all. He didn't know how long he sat there like that but as soon as Lucas heard the voice on the speaker announcing the next stop, he knew that more than ten minutes had already gone by - time that went by in what seemed like hours as the vision appeared before his eyes.

This time, the vision had taken him deep into Lushanka prison, during the first two days of his incarceration, where he had struggled to keep up his legend - Dimitri Ilyakov - intact, confident that he was safe, that there'd been a mistake.

They came into Lucas' cell on the third day and dragged him into a dark room, strapped him onto a a wooden plank and there, a woman began grilling him about Sugar Horse. He begged them then. He knew nothing. His name was Dimitri Ilyakov and he was merely a contractor brought in from Ukraine. He knew nothing.

It was when they called him by his real name did Lucas finally realize that maybe this time, the game was up. This time, they finally got him.

Lucas North, they said. We know who you are. Your own boss told us your name and where to find you. And the man you seek - Mikhael Lubienko - he is where you and your boss can ever find him at all. He is dead.

And that was when Lucas knew, as they draped the cloth over his face and began pouring the water over it, water seeping into his nose as he screamed for help that would never come, that this time, he'd been betrayed.

Only one man had known he was in Russia, he thought. And that man had betrayed him.

Lucas snapped back to the present and looked out the window, watching the walls outside the train whiz past him. Since returning from Russia, nothing was ever a coincidence anymore, he thought, and the business card was one of them. Even if it had not fallen from Nadia's coat pocket, they would have discovered it the moment they'd get her into the Grid and into one of the interrogation rooms.

By then, he thought, they'd be too late. Alexa would be long gone. Or dead.

This way, Alexa was only less than ten minutes ahead of Lucas. It was much better than giving her a full hour head start and losing her in the process.

He pulled out his phone but knew that there would no reception down in the Underground at all, not until he'd get up to the station.

Absently, his thumb rubbed the smooth face of the mobile phone as Lucas allowed his mind to finally go there, to the man who could have betrayed him.

_"I need you to go back to Moscow, Lucas," Harry said as Lucas entered his office._

_The statement took him by surprise and he found himself stopping, his hand still on the door knob, as if he were considering simply walking back out and pretending he hadn't heard what he had just heard._

_"What for? We got Alexa back," Lucas said in a controlled voice as he sat down on the chair facing Harry's desk. He was tired, having just returned from Russia less than a week earlier and having had to work at the Grid immediately._

_His wife, Elizabeta, had not been pleased at all by the length and suddenness of his 'business trips' as he had called them, and already the strain was showing early in their marriage. Lucas loved her for her honesty, yet it was the one thing he could not give her, at least not yet._  
_Lucas swallowed nervously, and licked his lips as Harry pulled out some papers in front of him. "I've received intelligence about the illegal sale of nuclear materials, and I need you to return to Russia to get the second part of the report. Proof that certain exchanges exist."_

_"What kind of proof are we talking about?"_

_"Recordings, both video and audio," Harry replied. "We have transcripts from the recordings and some grainy photographs, but I need the source. I want the intelligence to be solid when it's presented to the JIC."_

_"So how do I get this ... proof?"_

_"You're flying to Russia to find Mikhael Lubienko," Harry began as Lucas' back straightened stiffly at the mention of the man's name. "I need you to find him again and get the tapes from him."_

_Lucas stared at Harry, unable to believe what he'd just heard. Mikhael was the last person Lucas had wanted to meet again, and if he could manage it, he would never have to run into him either. "He's the dirtiest, most dangerous FSB asset I've ever met, Harry. I can't believe you want to be involved with him and what he knows."_

_Harry nodded. "I understand what you're trying to say, Lucas, but I'm going to have to ask you to go back there and track him down again. You're the only person who's seen him since he started working for the FSB."_

_"And what makes you think he's going to work with me?"_

_"Because I sent you," Harry replied. "He'll know why when he sees you again."_

_"And what am I looking for?" Lucas asked._

_"It's called Operation Nephthys," Harry replied, handing Lucas a file folder. "It involves the illegal sale of nuclear materials to countries outside of the Non Proliferation Treaty, assisted by one of our own."_

_Lucas looked up at Harry, surprised. He opened the folder and began to look through the pages. He frowned. "This report is censored, Harry" he said, referring to the blacked out words throughout the page. "How do you expect me to do what I need to do if I don't even get to know what's going on?"_

_"Lucas, the only thing blackened out in that file report is the name of a high-ranking operative whose name I can't as yet allow to be spoken of outside of this office," Harry said. "Not until I get the recordings from Mikhael."_

_"This 'one of our own' is that high up in the ranks?"_

_Harry nodded. "One of the highest positions. That's why I need to be careful. There were whisperings when Mikhael was first revealed to be traitor that he'd been set up, that he'd discovered a mole deep inside the secret service and this was their way of getting back at him. Destroy him so that he'd have no choice but sell himself to the FSB, which he did. But whether what he discovered is true or not, I still need proof."_

_Lucas frowned. "Harry, this is the same man who tortured your own god daughter, who kidnapped her and sold her for sex again and again, and humiliated her. How can you even trust a man like Mikhael Lubienko? The man is traitor to the country, there is no denying that. Whatever he did for the good of his country as far as I'm concerned, became nonexistent the moment he kidnapped a British national and held her against her will, raped her and sold her according to his mood."_

_Lucas got up and began to pace angrily. "He's killed three of his own agents, Harry, and who knows how many more? How can you even risk trusting him over some report he wrote hoping you'd give him some leniency for releasing your god daughter?"_

_Lucas was shaking. He rubbed his jaw anxiously. "You sent me to find Alexa alone, Harry, because you knew the JIC would never have sanctioned the search in the first place. That's why you and I came up with a bogus operation. But it also meant that I was alone, that if I ever was caught, I was on my own."_

_Lucas stopped pacing, this time facing the wall, away from the windows where he knew many of the people working on the Grid had probably already bore witness to his outburst. "It also means that this time, if I go and search for this...Nephthys, it's more dangerous than just searching for an eighteen-year old girl."_

_"That's enough, Lucas," Harry said angrily. Harry kept his gaze firmly on Lucas' blue-gray eyes. He felt Lucas' anger simmering just beneath the surface, saw the vein that throbbed just along his temple._

_"You have a point. In fact, you've got a few, Lucas. And as much as I love Alexa and I hate what happened to her, I still have a responsibility to uphold and that is the overall safety and security of the British people. If there is a high-level mole within the secret service, one who has been undermining our very own operations here and abroad, then that means that there's more of them. That means they are everywhere, even here in Section D."_

_Harry took a deep breath and gazed at Lucas. "Trusting Mikhael Lubienko is a risk I'm willing to take."_  
_"Then you take it, Harry," Lucas said abruptly. "You go to Russia. Not me."_

_Harry said nothing as Lucas left the room and walked out of the Grid. Lucas knew everyone had been watching him then, their eyes pinned on their chief operative grabbing his coat and leaving even though he'd just arrived a few minutes earlier._

_And for two hours, Lucas walked the streets of London, immersing himself in the sights, sounds and smells of the city he called home, knowing that such things had shaped him and made him what he was. There was no denying it - Lucas loved London, and he loved the life he'd managed to build for himself and Elizabeta within it._

_But as he had sat in Harry's office during that meeting, Lucas had felt a sliver of fear grip him, something that told him that maybe this time, there was a chance that he would not be returning. It had been such an odd feeling that it took a moment for Lucas to shake it, not till after he stormed out of Harry's office, wondering what had gotten over him to do such a thing._

_Fear was one of the most powerful weapons in a spook's arsenal. Without it, he'd never know what danger looked, smelled, or tasted like. Fear was a warning signal from one's brain, telling him to watch out when it was no longer safe and when to take precautions._

_Yet this time it was different and Lucas couldn't put a finger on it. The fear was more real this time, with a darker, more unknown edge to it. Was he going to let fear to take over him? He wondered._

_As he sat on a park bench watching children scamper about in a playground before him, their parents and caregivers hovering in the perimeter, lost in conversations with one another yet their watchful eyes ever on their charges, Lucas allowed himself to shut his eyes for a moment._

_And as he did, Lucas found himself staring at a pair of Alexa's sea-green eyes just a few weeks earlier when he had first discovered her in one of Mikhael's lesser known clubs, telling him without words what dangerous waters he was in, where things weren't what they seemed._  
_In the end, Lucas returned to the Grid and sat in front of Harry again, and this time he said yes._

_It had been an easy decision in the end, for Lucas knew that Harry was right. He could not let the fear of never returning to stop him from doing what he did best. This was why he had entered the secret services, the same reason he was returning to Russia at such a time of political unrest._

_A high-level mole could spell disaster for everyone concerned, and all their operations were at risk. If there were high-level moles, Harry was right to ask the question - how many more low-level ones could there by, already infiltrating through the ranks of the secret service, even within Section D?_

Lucas got off at the Seven Sisters station and made his way onto the main road as quickly as he could. As soon as he got out of the Underground, he pulled out his phone and dialed the Grid. Lucas couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd been in the area of northern London and he didn't want to be going around in circles when he did not have the luxury of time.

When Malcolm answered, Lucas heaved a sigh. Malcolm was just the person he had wanted to speak to.

"I need you to help me with an address, Malcolm," he said, and before Malcolm could say anything, Lucas rattled off the address. "I'm just outside Seven Sisters station and I don't have enough time."

Lucas heard the sound of Malcolm's fingers tap dancing on his computer keyboard in the background.

"Where is Harry?" He asked.

"Harry stepped out," Malcolm said before telling him where to find the address he'd just been given. According to Malcolm, Genesis was only five blocks to the west of him.

Lucas thanked Malcolm but before he could hang up, he heard Ros' voice on the line. "Lucas, where are you? Is this about Nephthys?"

Lucas stopped walking. He was right in front of an African-European hair salon which was flanked by a chicken wing eatery and a car alarm shop. He turned to face the street, his eyes scanning the area around him. Though he knew that Alexa was more than ten minutes ahead of him, he couldn't stop himself from scanning the street around him for her face.

"Lucas," Ros continued when Lucas did not say anything. "Nephthys was tattooed on Alexa's back so I do know what's going on but you need to tell me what is happening with you and Alexa so I can help you. That's where she's going, isn't it?"

Without answering her question immediately, Lucas began walking again. A woman with track marks all along her arms was making her way towards him but he quickened his pace and from the corner of his eyes, Lucas saw her stop and lean against a street corner, having given up on following him.

"It's a brothel, Ros. It's the same brothel Alexa discovered Nadia two years ago," he said, remembering the name Gemini from Alexa's file a few days earlier. "If Nephthys is in there, then that means that everything - even Nadia being in London, Alexa helping her get her British citizenship - someone maneuvered everything to happen the way they did. They could have been trying to get her to remember all that time. It can't be all just a coincidence."

"Jo just called," Ros said. "She's on her way in the Nadia as we speak."

"Keep Nadia on the Grid and get as much information from her about Alexa and even Nathaniel. She knows too much to just be some human trafficking victim according to Alexa's file."

"Nathaniel was photographed with a young woman that looks like Nadia three years ago," Ros said, her attention drawn to a grainy photograph of an older man standing next to a petite blonde woman at a gathering that included a few heads of state that popped up on Malcolm's computer screen. For a few moments, Ros stared at the image on the screen.

Nathaniel had been right under their very noses, Ros thought as she recognized the many familiar faces in the photograph. It had been taken at a political party that included a British consul, which meant that Jools' men most likely had been assigned to guard the consul himself. Could they have been aware of Nathaniel's presence in the same room?

She frowned. It would have been impossible to have missed Nathaniel George in such a gathering - a man who was supposed to be dead walking and talking among the living.

In the background, Malcolm muttered something, and Ros turned to look at him, reading a piece of paper he thrust in front of her. Someone's listening, it read.

"Lucas," Ros said carefully. "We have a little rat problem right now. Be very careful."

The realization of Ros' words hit him like a kick to the gut and he cursed. He hung up the phone and began running, following Malcolm's directions.

_Rat problem_. Just another way of saying that the line had been bugged.

A few nights ago, Alexa had told him that there were moles everywhere, even inside Thames House. At first he had refused to believe her for what did she know? She was only a young woman with no knowledge of the goings-on inside Thames House, inside the Grid or Section D for that matter.

Yet all that had changed in a matter of hours, Lucas thought as he sped his pace along the teeming streets of southern London, thinning now as he approached a street lined with houses. By calling the Grid, he'd inadvertently led whoever had bugged the lines straight to Alexa.

Shit, he cursed again, turning a corner and knowing that he had two more blocks to go. What have I done?

* * *

Even at midmorning, the brothel never slept. Men came and went, as they always did, and the music blared from the cheap speakers perched along the walls of the main room. Two metal poles were situated on each end of the room, surrounded by a half-circle of burgundy velvet sofas.

Three men lolled about on one of the sofas, their mouths hanging open as a young woman wearing only a sequined pair of thongs danced in front of them. A cheap necklace hung around her neck, the fake stones glistening between her breasts as she moved to the music. Her eyes looked half open, her pupils dilated from the hit she'd just had a few minutes earlier.

She was flying, and she didn't give a damn about the men ogling her.

Another woman was dancing by the other pole, and a man was dancing with her, already drunk in midmorning. He was supposed to be at some meeting, but he'd ditched that after his host had suggested he come to the Gemini for some fun. And fun he was having.

The girl he was dancing with seemed wholly interested in him, her bloodshot eyes seeming to watch him as he danced with her. She was dressed in a baby doll outfit, the flouncy skirt too short to hide the curve of her buttocks, though no one was complaining.

Downstairs, a figure moved in the semi-darkness, the back door lock being the perfect match for the key that Mikhael had slipped into his wallet. A floorboard creaked under the weight of her and she paused, waiting for somebody to rush out.

A few seconds later, Alexa made her way down to the basement where she knew with grim certainty she'd find Mikhael's belongings there. Gemini would have been the only place where he'd have been able to hide for some time, she thought. His face had been too disfigured to have allowed him to move about freely without being noticed.

In the basement, there were two doors and the first one she tapped open gently with her foot led to the laundry room where two washers were going through the initial wash cycle while the dryer was tumbling noisily. Brothels needed laundry service, she thought. There was no need to send the work out when it could be done in-house.

Alexa slowly made her way to the remaining door and slipped it open, holding her breath as she did so. A light from a small lamp flickered in the corner and she walked in, shutting the door behind her as she did so.

She leaned against the door, afraid to do anything else but stand there for a few minutes, straining to listen for anything that would alert her that she was not alone. As her eyes grew accustomed to the dim light, she finally looked at the room and held her breath.

The room was bare except for a single bed along one side of the wall, a pillow where she could still make out the outline of Mikhael's head where he had lain his head last. Beneath the bed was a backpack and Alexa knelt down and zipped it open. Inside were some shirts and as she continued to rummage through its contents, finally turning the backpack upside down so that everything inside spilled out onto the cold cement floor, she found what she was looking for.

It was a doll, an old one from what she could see. Its hair was matted and one movable eye was permanently skewed to one side. Alexa had told Mikhael how her mother had hidden the list of names of Harry's Sugar Horse assets inside her doll years earlier and she found herself smiling for he had not forgotten it.

She twisted the head off and turned the body upside down. Three thumb drives tumbled onto her palm.

Alexa unzipped the pocket of the backpack. She retrieved a condom packet, a tube of lubricant and something that looked like a giant pill, two oval cones that fit together to resemble something that you popped into your mouth.

Alexa's mouth grew dry as she realized what they were for.

There are always places to hide things you don't want them to find the first time they catch you, he'd taught her years earlier. And he'd been right all those times.

She swallowed nervously. Alexa popped open the plastic case and dropped the thumb drives inside. Then, tearing open the condom wrapper with her teeth, she unrolled it and slipped the plastic case inside. Wasn't this the same way drugs were transported through Customs? she mused and proceeded to unbutton her jeans.

When it was done, Alexa walked to the sink to wash her hands. She took one last look around the room. There was nothing else in the room that characterized the room as Mikhael's, she thought. Spartan at best, the only other thing that caught her eye was a photograph that stared back at her from the far wall of the room, stark in its composition and arrangement.

She really should get moving, Alexa thought, but her legs felt like leg, rooted to the ground where she stood as the image that looked back at her sent her somewhere so far away, from so long ago. But Alexa couldn't.

As if transfixed, she walked towards it, staring.

In black and white, the image it held was grim and needed no reminder for her as she stared at it, for it brought her back to a world so long ago, when she trusted only him.

Two words held the secret to that photograph, words that only she and Mikhael knew of. Three days ago, it had all come back to her on the ship that would have taken them both far away from here. Now, it served only to remind her of a life that she had lived so long ago, when there was only one man she trusted.

_Don't move._


	34. Chapter 34

As the image of Harry walking away from Montgomery Coultron and stepping out of sight as he left the interrogation room appeared on her computer monitor, Connie slipped the headphones from her head and got up. She retrieved her mobile phone from her purse, slipped it into her pants pocket and decided to take a short break away from her desk.

She made her way to the rooftop of Thames House, a walk that would take her about seven minutes as she walked past colleagues with whom she'd worked with for years. Though she had taken early retirement almost ten years earlier, it was Harry who had brought her back into the fold, releasing her from the tedium as caretaker of a Cold-War era nuclear bunker in Surrey.

Connie had a lot to be grateful for in Harry Pearce, for the man had been her champion for years, guiding her throughout most of her career and even working alongside her in an operation called Renaissance.

Their operation then had been to convince the Russians that they had a mole within MI5 who would give them false information, and who would, in return, be able to disseminate valuable information from the Russians back to MI5. Connie had been the operative assigned to play the traitor and it had worked, for she'd been able to culminate contacts within the KGB as well as FSB, Russia's secret police.

But it had worked too well and even Harry had never been able to foresee just how well the ploy had worked - at least to the Russians' favor. He'd been too blinded by idealism and dedication to his country, no matter what the country's aims were, that even as Connie convinced the Russians that she was a reliable mole, they'd been able to turn her.

She indeed was a double agent in every way but not, in England's favor.

For Connie's loyalties had shifted shortly after the completion of Operation Renaissance. As America's power continued to rise, it had forced England to step aside and make room for this ever-growing superpower, a move that Connie and others like her knew would create an imbalance that would only grow deeper and deeper as America's powers grew.

She dialed a number and waited as it rang and rang. When someone finally answered, it was a curt, "да?" Yes?

Connie began to speak in fluent Russian. Harry, she told the man on the other end of the line, had just questioned the lone surviving psychologist involved in Alexa's interrogation nine years earlier. He had asked for protection from MI5.

The man chuckled. "As if it will help him now," he said. "Was he able to give a positive ID of Mr. Jones?"

"Yes," Connie replied. Mr. Jones, of course, was the pompous Jools Siviter's legend. "It was all Harry needed."

The man sighed. "Coultron's word is worth nothing. He is a disgraced psychologist, a quack really. But it is still a huge blow to our cause."

Connie remained silent. She waited as the man spoke to someone in the background, a car honking in the distance as he barked an order. It seemed that the man was in a car somewhere in the middle of the city, she thought, her assumptions confirmed when he mentioned something about Seven Sisters Road.

"I have received the thumb drive," the man said. "It's intact and nothing, it seems, has been altered. I marvel at how the girl managed to keep it safe after all these years."

Connie smiled. "The girl is an enigma, yet she can be an important asset should we need her again in the future."

"I'm not sure we can call her an asset," said the man thoughtfully. "She never was, at least for us. She had to keep the information safe because she did not know who to trust anymore. And that is testament to Mr. Jones' methodology."

"But Mr. Jones is a liability now, don't you agree?" She asked carefully. "I couldn't trust him to keep the secret safe if he were indeed exposed and brought before a tribunal. I will fear for my safety."

The man sighed. "So you think it will come to that?"

"Harry Pearce will stop at nothing now," Connie said as she took in the view of London before her. "He has almost everything he needs."

There was an audible pause. "Almost?"

"The girl is supposed to deliver the proof needed to complete Nephthys. That is, if she makes it alive. Mr. Jones has sent someone in to terminate her."

Connie had learned from Jools an hour earlier that he had sent someone over to the brothel to keep an eye for Alexa and kill her. Jools had simply tired of the girl, and there was nothing else, or rather no one else, to guarantee her life now that Nathaniel was dead, not even the discovery that Alexa was Harry's daughter.

Even that, Connie thought, was not a good enough reason for Jools to stick to the unspoken code of leaving your peers' family untouched. As far as Jools was concerned, Alexa had been a nuisance from the very beginning, and he was more than happy to be finally rid of her. He had no more use for her.

"And Lucas North," the man said. "He loves her, yes?"

"They have a son together," Connie replied, her voice softening. "He is eight years old."

The man spoke to someone in the background before returning to his conversation with Connie. "In that case, we have to make sure he is happy. I have yet to see a return on this investment and I'm not about to see our valuable prisoner exchange to have been for nought. He should never forget the price for his freedom."

With that, the man said good-bye and hung up. Connie realized then that she'd held her breath during that last exchange, not knowing what to expect of Valentin Dorev, the new FSB resident in London. Valentin was next in line to succeed Arkady, who had yet to report for work in the past two days.

Connie could have told Valentin that MI5 had Arkady in their custody, though she knew that even that was a lie. She'd searched for the man everywhere, wondering if her security clearance had somehow not been high enough to guarantee her the knowledge of his whereabouts.

But Connie also knew that there was no need for her to disclose such information, for Valentin knew that already. Arkady's disappearance had moved him up in the hierarchy within the FSB, a position that was much coveted by many an ambitious operative, because Arkady had made a fatal mistake.

He had sabotaged an operation that would have brought England into a state of complete blackout from the rest of the world, resulting in a major embarrassment for the Russians that Valentin himself was still mopping up.

The operation that had sent a Russian submarine undetected in British waters to tap into England's valuable communications lines and destroy it, creating a country-wide blackout that would have sent the country reeling. If Arkady would have been caught alive, he would have wished for death to come take him instead because Valentin himself would have offered him no mercy whatsoever.

As Connie put her mobile phone back inside her pocket, walking back to the doorway leading to the stairs that would take her back down within the inner workings of the Grid, she forced herself to take a deep breath.

Her face, which had worn the visage of controlled calculation earlier, now took on the look of someone to be trusted with one's secrets again. She was, after all, a legend within Section D, her skills as a senior information officer unparalleled, and her success with Operation Renaissance, though it was known only to so few people, had afforded her with valuable connections within the FSB that no one else had been able to replicate.

She was Connie James, after all. And for over twenty years, she'd been one of Russia's most successful double agents, second only to the man who'd helped recruit her, the very same man she had just helped fall from so high above his station.

Jools Siviter, even Connie had to agree, had become a huge liability.

* * *

The gunfire that erupted in the hallway cut both men almost in half right before their eyes, and Lucas grabbed Alexa, shielding her eyes as he brought her against his body and together they fell to the floor. It hadn't come from his own gun, he thought. It had come from behind the men, from the front of the establishment.

The women continued screaming but suddenly hushed, and for a moment Lucas shut his eyes, gritting his teeth as he imagined the women dead on the landing. But as he lay there with Alexa trembling next to him, Lucas heard the voices of men telling the women to be quiet in Russian. He heard Tashia curse again but this time, her voice sounded more annoyed than furious.

In the silence that followed, Lucas looked up towards the back door that Alexa had been frantically trying to open earlier. It was then that he saw that someone had secured the three deadbolts and in her panic, Alexa had been unable to unlock them.

Lucas gripped his gun tightly, his heart thundering within his chest as he heard the sound of footsteps approaching from within the hallway. He brought the gun in front of him, his other hand still keeping Alexa against him, keeping her face shielded from what was about to happen.

She was gripping him tightly, her fingers shaking as she held onto him.

It's alright, he wanted to tell her, but Lucas knew it would simply be a lie, for even he found it difficult to believe himself. He pulled himself up to a sitting position against the back wall, wishing things wouldn't end like this. He raised the gun as the footsteps drew closer.

A tall blonde man wearing a long dark coat over a smart blue suit appeared before them, his hands held out in front of him, palms facing them. A smile graced his face, though his blue eyes were cold. Two men appeared behind him, guns in their hands and they kicked at the bodies on the floor, but none of them moved. Blood seeped onto the floor beneath them.

"Lucas North, да?" The man asked and Lucas found himself nodding. The man turned to Alexa. "Alexa George, Хранитель секретов." Keeper of secrets.

Alexa stared up at him. "What's going on?" She asked Lucas.

"Who are you?" Lucas demanded, keeping his gun aimed at him.

Valentin turned to look at Lucas. "We will be formally introduced one day, Mr. North," he said in Russian. "Though I would be very careful where I aimed that gun. After all, I just saved your life."

"Not until you tell me what's going on," Lucas said as he got up to his feet, pulling Alexa up with him.

Valentin turned to look at Alexa. "Do you have Nepthys?" He asked and when Alexa didn't answer, he asked again, his voice bearing an edge of impatience this time and Alexa nodded.

"Good," Valentin said. He walked towards them and as Lucas stepped away from the door, still holding on to Alexa, Valentin unbolted the locks and opened it. Crisp fresh air rushed into the space between them. "The police will be here soon and I suggest you leave through here. There will be a car waiting for you at the end of the alley and it will take you both to Thames House. From there, you two are on your own."

"Who are you?" Lucas asked, not ready to trust this stranger just yet.

Valentin pulled open the door wider. "An unhappy agent is of no use to me, Mr. North. I have yet to see what you can do for us but I have faith in you. I trust that the decision to trade you for another spy who was, in my opinion, not as valuable as you are, was the right one."

As the realization of his words sank in, Lucas lowered his gun and began to make his way towards the door but Alexa stopped him. She glared at Lucas angrily. "You are a double agent," she hissed. "Mikhael was right not to trust you."

Lucas eyed her angrily, fighting the urge to say something he would have regretted but he only pushed her towards the door, only to have her resist him.

"Oy, you two," Valentin snapped irritably, bringing up his arms in mock exasperation. "Work out your differences at Thames House, if you please. But if you don't want any more of these men trying to kill you, then do as I say. A car is waiting for you if you should choose to trust me."

One of the men behind Valentin muttered under his breath, reminding him that they had to leave soon.

"We will speak soon, Mr. North," Valentin said as he turned away and flanked by his men, disappeared in the hallway. The women at the foyer whimpered as they walked by and as the front door shut behind them, Lucas grabbed Alexa's hand. Not caring whether she was willing or not, he pulled her behind him and running along the alleyway towards the street, they saw a black sedan pull up, its back door opening.

Alexa pulled away but Lucas yanked her forward. "You're not seriously thinking of getting in there?" She asked.

"What else do you want me to do, Alex?" Lucas demanded as he stopped and let go of her hand. "Minutes ago, someone was choking the life out of you and if I hadn't arrived, you'd have left that house in a body bag, and leave Liam without a mother."

Lucas could feel the heat rise to his face as he glared at her angrily, the tide of anger and rage too strong for him to stem with the last ounce of patience he had in his body. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and he wanted nothing more than to get away from everything. In the distance, the sound of a siren drew closer.

"I saw the video of Mikhael shooting you in the head nine years ago, Alex, and I was sent to bring your body back before they'd throw it into the Moskva river. When I couldn't find you in that morgue, I stayed in Moscow even though I didn't need to. I didn't know you and I didn't care about you either," Lucas said angrily as Alexa stared at him, her face turning pale.

"But I do know you now and I do care," Lucas continued. "Too much that I'd risk everything just to save you from yourself. So stay here if you want because you can't trust me. But if you can at least remember that we both have a son together, then think of that and get in that damn car right now."

Without turning to look back at her, Lucas ran towards the car as the sirens ceased, tires screeching as police cars descended upon the brothel on the other end of the street. Alexa ran after him and as Lucas opened the door wide for her, she stepped into the car before him, her heart caught in her throat expecting the barrel of a gun aimed at her.

"It's about time both of you got done with your lovers' quarrel," Ros said as Lucas got in and shut the door. "I was getting tired of waiting for that happy ending."


	35. Chapter 35

*Contains mature content

Harry found Jools inside the gentleman's club he regularly frequented, holding court at the first floor alcove with a few other men who were listening intently to something he was saying. But as soon as Harry appeared, Jools stopped and jokingly told the men to leave him for he had urgent business to attend to.

Within minutes, the private alcove was left to both men and together they sat on two large leather chairs at the far end. Jools didn't offer Harry anything to drink and when the host asked Harry if he cared for one, Harry shook his head.

"No, thank you," Harry said, smiling and watching the host walk away.

"So," Jools said, as soon as they were alone again. "What has gotten the venerable Sir Harry Pearce out of his little section in the middle of the day to come pay me a social call?"

"Oh, this is no social call, Jools," Harry said. "I've come here to warn you."

"Oh?" Jools cocked an eyebrow, smiling. "Harry, you know that report is useless, just the words of a bitter traitor against his own boss."

"I don't particularly care how you view the report, Jools, but the allegations are serious and they are with merit. The JIC is currently reviewing all the materials and at the moment, it doesn't look good for you."

Jools' expression hardened, the smile vanishing from his face. In the past, the head of the JIC owed his position to Jools himself, allowing Jools to extract favors, and there had been many. But these days, the JIC had changed since he had last held the position as head of MI6 more than five years earlier.

The establishment had undergone a coup and so much more, and now the current head was someone who took no prisoners. If what Harry said was true, then Harry had chosen the right time to produce Lubienko's report. He took a sip of Scotch and placed the glass back on the table, his muscles tense. Jools had one more card to play.

"You have no proof, Harry, and you know it."

"That's up the JIC to decide, Jools," Harry said. "Besides, you'd be surprised to know that I didn't hand over the information. I didn't have to."

If Jools was surprised, he managed to conceal it well.

"I'd talk with the red office, if I were you," Harry said. "And find out what they really think about you now."

As Jools appeared to mull over what he had just heard, Harry got up and said good-bye.

As he walked away, Harry felt a sadness descend upon him.

For years he'd viewed Jools as a pompous aristocratic bully who chose to use his wealth and blue-blood heritage to get whatever he wanted. And for years he had succeeded.

But to have to fall to the depths that Jools was about to fall to, Harry would never have wished it on anyone, especially not one of their own. Yet there was no denying the fact that Jools was a traitor and had been for over twenty years. How many lives had he endangered? How many lives had his treachery really cost the secret services - on all levels?

As Harry got into the car that had remained double parked outside the club, he remembered how he'd gotten the call from the new man who'd taken over Arkady's position so quickly after his disappearance. The call had arrived shortly after he'd questioned the hypnotherapist Coultron.

While Arkady had been as equally pompous and arrogant as Jools, Valentin Durev appeared quite the opposite. Suave, charming and disarmingly polite, he offered Harry a deal.

It was true that Jools was a double agent, Valentin said, but that would now be something of the past.

"The past?" Harry asked, surprised. He'd just been reeling over the information Coultron had given him minutes earlier and even Harry had to admit that he wasn't ready to hear more just yet. "I'm afraid you will need to elaborate what you mean, Mr. Durev, for I'm afraid I don't quite understand you."

"Call me Valentin," laughed the man on the other end of the line. "What I mean is this, Mr. Pearce. Mr. Siviter is no longer of use to us and he is now, and has been in the last few years, nothing but a liability. The only reason we have maintained him is because of Nathaniel George and of course, his daughter, Alexa. You see, she had information we quite sorely needed and now we have it. And her father is dead."

"You're willing to surrender your own double agent?" Harry asked carefully. Surely there was a catch somewhere.

"Would you rather that we tell the news agencies ourselves?" Valentin asked pointedly.

"You see, Mr. Pearce, while I'm head resident here in London, I'm making it my responsibility to do some cleaning up, or shall we say, a reassessment of our country's interests here in London."

"You're the consummate diplomat, Valentin," Harry said.

Valentin chuckled. "Yes, that's been said before, and I must admit, it's true. But think about what I just said, Mr. Pearce. It is best that the information come from someone else other than another agency within the same establishment, don't you think? Just imagine the distrust it must sow throughout the entire Secret Services should your peers learn that there is a snake in their midst, ready to expose them at the first opportune moment? Not that I'm saying that you are, of course."

"What about the information that Alexa retrieved from Gemini?" Harry asked, ignoring Valentin's remark.

"You can make copies of it, if you want that as insurance, but we will need them to hand along with the report that Mikhael Lubienko drafted nine years ago," Valentin said. "One is useless without the other, I hear."

"How do I know you can be trusted?"

"Do you know where Miss Myers is right now?" Valentin suddenly asked and Harry frowned. Ros had left twenty minutes earlier to go after Lucas but it wasn't something that Harry was ready to divulge just yet.

"Why do you want to know?" Harry asked.

"Tell her to wait at the north end of the alley where Gemini is located," Valentin said. "I'll have your precious daughter and Lucas North headed that way after I take care of a few pressing problems."

Before Harry could say anything, he heard the sound of a door being kicked open and the screams of women in the background. A woman with a gruff voice screaming obscenities suddenly became silent as Valentin said something to her. And as Harry grabbed hold of the edge of his desk for support, allowing himself to sit down on his chair weakly, the sound of gunfire erupted in the background.

"North end of the alley," Valentin repeated, his voice suddenly taking on an air of danger.

"And you will learn soon enough whether I can be trusted or not, Mr Pearce," he said before hanging up the phone.

* * *

Outside, the rain had begun to fall and Alexa emerged from the shower, drying her hair as she gathered the robe about her. She exhaled, and as if a heavy weight left her shoulders, they lowered for just a fraction and she looked around her. The flat was beautifully decorated, one of the best safe houses that MI5 had to offer her, thanks to Harry Pearce and the fact that she was allegedly his daughter.

It was a discovery that Alexa was not ready to accept just yet, and even she knew that Harry wasn't about to do so either. She was aware that at the beginning of her debrief just five days earlier, shortly after she'd surrendered the three thumb drives to Harry, he'd requested a blood test to be run.

Just protocol, he had said to her, smiling faintly but Alexa could see it in his eyes, and she understood.

And for the past five days, she had lived here and Alexa knew that she'd be here till after Jools would finally face the tribunal and account for his treachery, the proof against him irrefutable this time, even for someone as powerful as the head of MI6.

Alexa opened a bottle of wine and poured herself a glass. She played some soft music to complement the sound of the soft rain outside her window, and sat on the sofa before the television set that was on but was on mute, shadows playing upon her face.

Mikhael had died two days after she'd last seen him. They told her that he had died from a pulmonary embolism but she had insisted on viewing the video of that day, scanning every face that walked past his room, freezing the frame on every single person who had entered and left it, cross checking each face to every employee on file that she'd convinced Malcolm to retrieve for her from the hospital database.

And when Alexa found the one face that could not be accounted for, she had the photograph printed and kept it for herself. She would memorize that face, she thought, just as Mikhael had taught her to do many years earlier.

She had asked Malcolm to identify the face for her and when he finally did, though reluctantly, a feat that took him three days to complete, Alexa kept the piece of paper he had handed her as well. And just as Mikhael had taught her, she would remember the name, and never forget it.

The time alone in her opulently furnished safe house had given Alexa enough time to think things over. She knew that the debrief was necessary and that if she wouldn't agree to it, she'd be viewed in an unfavorable light, as someone who had something to hide.

But if the debrief was necessary to take Jools Siviter down, the man responsible for turning her mother into a Russian asset and the same man who had engineered her father's defection to Russia, after threatening to have Alexa institutionalized at Bethlem, Alexa would do anything it took to do so.

She would help take down the same man who had ordered the death of an innocent wife and infant son of a once-valued MI6 agent just to protect his cover.

But as she sat in the room with Harry watching her every move, the interrogator pummeling her with countless questions for the last five days, Alexa realized that she only had to give them the answers they needed to bring Jools down, and nothing else.

Alexa still had secrets to keep, and she was going to keep them.

The faint scratching at her door caused Alexa to look up and almost spill her drink. She pulled open the drawer next to the sofa and pulled out the gun that Harry had left for her. She walked over towards the door and waited till the knob turned and the door was gently pushed open.

The barrel of the gun touched Lucas' cheek as he pushed the door open and he stopped, looking at her questioningly. Alexa lowered the gun and turned away as Lucas slipped in quietly and locked the door securely behind him.

"Your deadbolt wasn't secured," he said.

"We really should stop meeting like this, Lucas," she smiled. "You could have knocked."

"I did," Lucas said. He wore a deep blue shirt that complimented his eyes, and tight jeans that hugged his long legs. "I even called you just now, but you didn't answer. You had me quite worried I had to make sure the surveillance van was still there. Almost got myself caught breaking into your safe house as it is."

"You mean they don't know you're here right now?" Alexa asked, surprised.

Lucas smiled mischievously. "No, not that I want all of Section D to know everything that you or I do. But you really should have your phone close by at all times. You never know when you'll need it."

Alexa ran her hand against her damp hair, blushing. "I'm sorry, Lucas. I had the phone on mute and I forgot to turn the volume back on." She leaned forward to kiss him lightly on the lips, catching Lucas by surprise. "But I'm glad you broke in. After five straight days alone, it really isn't fun drinking by yourself. Besides, I was getting lonely."

Alexa returned the gun back into its drawer and turned to face him. Lucas was wet from the rain and she handed him a towel to dry his hair. She hadn't seen in five days, and she felt her chest tighten as she watched him wipe his face and drape the towel over the back of the nearest chair.

He was no longer as skinny as he had appeared when she first ran into him more than two weeks earlier. He'd acquired a bit more color to his face, the once sharp edges of his cheek bones having slowly filled in with a softness that seemed to beg for a touch and a caress.

"If it's any consolation, I missed you," Lucas said as she poured him a glass of wine and handed it to him. Alexa could smell the scent of him as she drew closer, the tension in her muscles building slowly. It almost felt like an uncoiling, she thought, the experience of it sending a tightness deep inside the depths of her belly.

"Harry didn't approve of us seeing each other during the debrief, Lucas," Alexa said, her face reddening. "But if it's any consolation to you, I missed you, too."

Lucas took a sip, smiling, as his eyes followed Alexa as she walked towards the living room. He hadn't spoken to her since the day he found her at Gemini, since the last exchange they'd had just before they entered the car with Ros at the wheel, and he was glad for the playful banter they had just exchanged.

But there was still so much work to be done. There was so much to cover between them, he thought.

"Liam says hello," he said. "I was with him today when he played his first rugby game since returning to school after..." He paused and did not continue his sentence. There was no point bringing back the past that included his son standing in front of him with a gun pointed at his head, Lucas thought, his jaw tightening at the memory. And it was something Alexa didn't need to know.

Lucas was grateful that Liam had looked at at him the entire time, hardly ever seeing that gun behind him. He shuddered at the thought but forced himself to push the memory back to the past where it belonged.

"Liam says hello," he said. "I was with him today when he played his first rugby game since returning to school after..." He paused and did not continue his sentence. There was no point bringing back the past that included his son standing in front of him with a gun pointed at his head, Lucas thought, his jaw tightening at the memory. And it was something Alexa didn't need to know.

He was grateful that Liam had kept his gaze on Lucas the entire time, hardly ever seeing that gun behind him. He shuddered at the thought but forced himself to push the memory back to the past where it belonged.

"Not that you could probably call it an official rugby game, but he did quite well," Lucas said, chuckling. "He's looking forward to seeing you tomorrow."

"Harry wouldn't even let me see him till the debrief was over," Alexa took another sip from her wine and set it down. "He really wants this thing with Jools to be over as soon as possible."

"I don't blame him," Lucas said, pulling her down onto the sofa with him. "Twenty years as a double agent could only mean so many lives lost, so many operations compromised. I would have done the same thing, Alexa. Besides, you're here now and the debrief is over."

"Is it?" Alexa asked.

"The debrief, yes," Lucas replied. He played with her hair as he spoke, inhaling the scent of her shampoo as he turned to look at her. "Harry told me that you were excellent, Alex. Are you alright?"

"What do you mean? Of course I'm alright," Alexa smiled. "You worry too much about me, Lucas. I think I can take care of myself just fine."

Lucas smiled. "I can see that."

"But what I really meant was, is it really all over?" Alexa blurted out, and Lucas could see that behind her green eyes, there was a layer of panic that seemed to filter through, no matter how hard she had tried to hide it. "When Jools faces the tribunal, do you really believe that he'll just accept everything they give him? It could be twenty years in prison, or even a life term, but what about me?"

Lucas finished his glass of wine and set the empty glass on the table next to him. He took Alexa's face between his hands, feeling the soft skin of her cheeks. "The Russians handed the report and the proof to the JIC, Alexa, not Harry, so Jools can't really assume that you were part of it. And as far as Jools is concerned, you're an untouchable to him. You're Harry's daughter and he knows better than to do anything stupid."

"I wouldn't put it past him," Alexa whispered. "He's done worse, Lucas. Far worse."

Lucas looked into Alexa's wide eyes and realized exactly what she meant. Jools had ordered the deaths of Mikhael's wife and child, and even though he may not have done the deed himself, he hadn't even blinked when he ended up facing Jools himself at the hospital after he was shot at the Mekanik Rada, both men forced to pretend that they'd been friendly rivals when Harry arrived shortly after.

"I'll do everything I can to protect you and Liam, Alexa," Lucas said. "I promise you I won't let anything happen to you."

"You can't be everywhere, Lucas," Alexa whispered. "But I know you will do everything you can to protect Liam and I."

"You and Liam are all I have, Alex."

For a few minutes, they simply sat there, looking at each other, Lucas grabbing hold of her hands and caressing it with his own, his eyes observing each tapered finger he held in his hands, feeling the softness of her skin.

"Would you like me to fix you dinner?" Alexa asked him, pushing herself up from the sofa, but Lucas' gentle hand on her thigh stopped her.

"I've already had dinner, thanks," Lucas said, his eyes pinning her down with its intensity and Alexa found herself sitting back down and leaning back, almost mesmerized.

"Would you...would you like anything else?" She asked, aware that her breathing had suddenly quickened as he continued to gaze at her. There was something in his gaze that seemed to leave her breathless, just like the first time she'd met him nine years earlier, his eyes darkening along with the light of the room, or the intensity of his emotions.

"Just you, Alex," Lucas whispered as he brought a hand up towards her face, his fingers touching her cheek softly and Alexa found herself closing her eyes. "All of you."

Alexa felt his lips touch hers, soft and fleeting as he drew her closer to him. He kissed her lower lip gently, capturing it for a brief moment before leaving it to favor the equally sensitive skin of her upper lip, and Alexa breathed against him, captivated by the softness of his hands against her face.

"What will it take for you to trust me completely, Alex?" He asked and Alexa lowered her eyes for a few moments before forcing herself to look up at him again, his eyes intense and focused only on her, awaiting an answer.

"I've trusted you the moment I first saw you, Lucas," she whispered, feeling his fingers push an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "If I've ever doubted you, it's only because I was so afraid I'd lose you."

When Lucas' lips curled into a faint smile, one that reached his eyes, Alexa pulled him closer, catching his lip between hers and sucked it tenderly, her arms wrapping around him to draw him ever closer. For a few minutes, they did nothing but kiss, their lips meeting each other playfully, tasting and savoring the tenderness they found there till Lucas brought both his hands around her and pulled her onto his lap.

Straddling him, Alexa kissed him, harder this time as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her even closer as they tasted each other with a hunger that threatened to overtake her completely. The time for tenderness was over as the heat that had lay contained within their bellies threatened to devour them, heat spreading fast and hard. Their breaths grew ragged as they devoured each other now, their mouths and tongues tasting and dancing even as their hands explored about each others' bodies, Lucas' hands slipping inside Alexa's robe to caress the small of her back, hearing her moan against his ear as she arched her back like a cat, purring against him.

Alexa ran her hand through his air, her other hand grasping the back of his neck and feeling the taut muscles respond to her touch. As his mouth descended upon her neck, she gasped as the day-old stubble that graced his jaw and neck felt rough against her skin, and she writhed against him, bathing herself with the feelings that claimed her.

Alexa captured his mouth again, her tongue probing, teasing him. As he tasted her, she caught his tongue between her lips and sucked tenderly, her fingers playing along his ear lobe now as Lucas found himself groaning beneath her ministrations.

Lucas pulled down her robe, his mouth descending upon her breast, his tongue swirling around her nipple and Alexa groaned, calling out his name as her fingers gripped the skin of his shoulders. Alexa unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it over his shoulders, her fingers digging into his skin as he ravished her other breast with his mouth, playing with the nipple between his teeth and feeling her shudder against him, her legs gripping him tightly.

"Stop," she whispered against his ear as she fought to catch her breath. Lucas stopped, breathing heavily as she extricated herself from his lap and taking his hand, took him to the bedroom.

As they stood at the foot of the bed, Alexa wrapped her fingers around his neck and kissed him again, her lips moving down his chin, his neck and lower still, her hands tracing the tattoos on his torso as she undressed him slowly. Lucas closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her fingers along his skin, her mouth burning a trail of kisses down his belly as her hands wrapped around his waist, bringing him closer to her as her mouth traveled lower still, Lucas gasping for breath as her mouth found him, her tongue teasing him before she took him in her mouth.

Lucas groaned, his hands playing with her hair. Lucas called out her name, his body trembling as her mouth and her fingers left him weak at the knees, struggling to keep his surrender at bay till he begged her to stop, pulling her back up so he could see her.

The London sky with its heavy clouds cast its glow upon them through the window, and Lucas saw no need for any other source of light as he gazed at her, naked before him, the robe she wore minutes earlier now gathered at her feet. Their lips met again, their bodies warm and yearning, coming together, fulfilling a need no words could ever complete.

As they fell onto the bed, Lucas covered her body with his own, his lips blazing a trail down the space where her neck met her shoulder. She clung to him as he explored her, his fingers moving lower to cup her mound and feel the wetness within, his fingers slipping between the plump, throbbing skin of her lips, probing the sensitive nub that sent her groaning, and slipping his fingers inside of her, felt her inner walls wrap around him, begging him to fill her.

Her fingers wrapped around him, squeezing him and feeling him hard against her palm. She wanted him so badly now, her hips rising from the bed to meet his. Alexa pulled his head down to kiss him, her tongue exploring him again, as her other hand, still wrapped around the length and girth of him, guided him inside of her, bathing him in her wetness as he rubbed himself between her lips before plunging himself deep inside her.

Alexa gasped, and for a moment, Lucas remained still, his eyes shut as he savored the sensations of her walls tightening around him, a rhythm that entranced him as her legs wrapped around his hips as Alexa began to grind against him. When Lucas opened his eyes, Alexa was gazing at him, her eyes snaring him in its depths as he began to move in and out of her, feeling her breath against his cheek as she gasped every time he moved in and out of her, filling her.

There were no more words between them now, their voices only gasps and groans of pleasure as they moved together, their eyes locked with the other's gaze. Lucas wanted this moment to last forever, him inside of her and her keeping him there, moving with him as he did so, her hips meeting his with each thrust as he felt himself go deeper and deeper inside of her, feeling her walls spasm around him.

Mewls of pleasure escaped her lips as Lucas sucked on the skin of her neck, just behind her ear, her hips bucking wildly as she came, riding the wave of pleasure that took her again and again. She cried out his name, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her nails scratching his skin as Lucas kept moving in and out of her, feeling his own wave coming in, more powerful than he'd ever felt it before.

And as he allowed his own climax to finally claim him after holding off for so long, feeling the second wave of her own orgasm claim Alexa at the same time, Lucas called out her name again and again. But it was the words he had whispered just before he called out her name that came to him much later, after she had finally drifted off to sleep, safely cradled in his arms, and Lucas found himself watching her sleep.

_I love you. _


	36. Chapter 36

"How long are we staying here, mummy?" Liam asked as he scraped the leftover food from his plate into the trash and placed it onto the counter. "I miss our house, my toys. Even dad won't drive me there to pick up my books."

"Dad has his reasons for not doing that," she said, ruffling his hair. "Just a few more weeks and we should be back home again."

In the living room, Lucas was on the phone, and wanting more privacy, had stepped into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

"You're in trouble, mum, aren't you?"

Alexa frowned. "What makes you think that?"

"This is a safe house, isn't it? And I know that van that's always parked outside have people inside watching us."

Alexa laughed. "You watch too many spy movies, Liam." She opened the dishwasher door and began loading the dishes in. "Would you like to help me?"

As Liam helped her load up the dishwasher, Alexa looked towards the bedroom where the door remained shut. She sighed. Of course, Liam was right. She was in trouble, and she was tired of it all.

She felt like a prisoner inside the safe house, no matter how beautifully or richly it was furnished. Harry had forbidden her from going out without a surveillance team in tow and while she'd argued with him that the money spent could better benefit someone else, Harry was adamant.

He'd heard whispers about operatives still loyal to Jools and he didn't want to take any chances. After having seen all the footage in the thumb drives that Alexa had handed over to him, Harry knew now how Jools worked. He always knew that Jools practiced unconventional methods in his acquisition of assets and even dispensing of them once their use to him was no more. He remembered how Jools had once told him that Alexa was his asset, and now Harry found himself fearing for her life once again.

What would matter to Jools now was revenge.

It wouldn't have mattered to Jools if the documents that outlined his treachery had Mikhael's fingerprints all over it. What would matter to him was that he'd have his vengeance on the one person Mikhael had entrusted Nephthys to.

Jools was facing the tribunal within the next week, and Harry could not help but feel that something was going on with Jools behind the scenes. He was under 24-hour surveillance inside his cell but not all of Jools' communications could completely be monitored. He could not even guarantee that every person assigned to watching Jools could be trusted at all.

And so Harry was left fearing for Alexa's life, and doing whatever he could to keep her safe. But even after it would be all over, was there really a guarantee that Alexa would be safe?

Alexa shut the dishwasher door as Liam returned to the living room to sit before the television. He crossed his legs and turned on his handheld game console, losing himself in the building of a civilization of his own.

Alexa walked towards the bedroom door, her hand touching the doorknob but not turning it. She could hear Lucas speaking in Russian, hearing the mention of her name, but she did not listen, instead sitting next to Liam to watch him build a granary on the civilization that he had just started.

Alexa wanted nothing more than to run off with Lucas and Liam where it was warm, and live by the sea. Maybe even on a mountain, she thought. There was always America or even Argentina where she could locate her mother's family and live with them. Who knows? The three of them could even travel like nomads for a while and see the world together.

But even Alexa knew it was just a dream. Nothing she did or thought seemed to matter anyway, Alexa thought. Everyone else was too busy managing her life.

Truth be told, Harry would have rather sent Alexa and Liam to Spain, or even South America for even Alexa had told him that it was the best option for them. However, this decision, whether it was Harry's or Alexa's, was not to Lucas' liking, and he threatened Harry that he would pursue every legal option possible for him should Alexa leave England with Liam. After all, wasn't it Harry who had expedited Lucas' family papers through the headmaster just a few weeks ago which now gave him every right as Liam's father?

"What would you want Alexa to do, Lucas?" Harry asked Lucas just after his operative returned to the Grid from his surveillance detail that day. "Do you expect her to leave without Liam at all?"

"I don't know, Harry," Lucas replied, rubbing his chin nervously. "They're all I've got, you know that. Yet I can't have Alexa leave with Liam, I just can't. I know it's selfish of me to want that, not if it will keep them both safe, but I've barely spent time with Liam."

Lucas sighed, shaking his head. "Besides," he added. "It's Alexa that Jools wants, not Liam."

For a few minutes, both men did not speak. Harry's lips tightened in a straight line and he looked away from Lucas' stern gaze. "So you're willing to sacrifice the mother of your own child to a coward like Jools by keeping her here in London knowing that there's a bead on her every time she steps out of that safe house just to keep your son in London?"

Lucas did not answer. He regretted saying what he had just said, allowing his anger get the best of him. "I'm sorry, Harry," he said as he began pacing. "I didn't mean it that way. I would never want any harm to come to Alex. You know that."

"I know it's unfair, Lucas," Harry said softly. "And you and I know that this is the only way we need to do things."

"Yet you also know that I can't leave with them," Lucas leaned both his hands against Harry's table, shaking his head. "The FSB would never let me."

"Yes," Harry agreed. "They never would allow it, Lucas. You'd be dead before you could even sneak out of the country."

"Sneaking out of the country is the last thing I'd do, Harry," Lucas said, smarting. "You know me better than that. And no, I can't leave England now, not if I can help it. Between you and Valentin, I'm stuck here."

Harry sighed. "You don't have a lot of options, Lucas. But you have to accept that fact that I can give Alexa and Liam a new future outside of England, where they can be safe. You can always follow them after all this is over."

Lucas looked up to stare at Harry, anger threatening to spill over as the veins along his neck throbbed. "It's never going to be over, Harry. There'll always be another threat in the horizon, no matter what you and I do. Wasn't that one of your favorite sayings when I first came on your team? You can always dance with the devil..."

"But it's always to his tune," Harry continued.

Lucas shook his head. "I don't care if I dance with the devil, Harry. But no matter what, Liam stays in London. And that's all I have to say about this. You're no longer the only one making the decisions for them."

Lucas walked towards the door.

"Have you even asked Alexa what she thinks about all this?" Harry asked, but Lucas didn't answer. He only gave Harry a sidewards glance and shut the door behind him.

* * *

"Are you sure?" Lucas asked, his jaw tensing as he spoke.

"My source inside MI6 has yet to let me down," Valentin replied. "I'm doing this as a courtesy to you, Lucas, to let you know that I am serious when I say that I try to keep my assets happy. No tricks up my sleeve, as you people love to say."

"I'm happy enough, Valentin. I don't need any help in that department."

"Are you sure about that, Lucas?"

Lucas did not reply. What was Valentin driving at?

"How can you say you're happy when you cannot in good conscience believe that your woman is truly safe, Lucas? There is no hiding from the truth. Besides, your boss is not exactly popular within the halls of Vauxhall Cross at the moment," Valentin continued. "They think that even though the evidence came from someone else, there is still the belief that he was part of it. So it's not as if someone would tell him about a kill order recently taken out on his own daughter."

Lucas began to pace the floor, glancing briefly at the door. The evening had started out so well, he thought, even though there were a few things he had needed to talk to Alexa about.

They had just finished dinner and had spent over two hours talking, just the three of them, laughing at Liam's jokes and stories about school as they picked through the dessert that Lucas had brought with him to celebrate Liam's ninth birthday.

Lucas had gotten Liam a set of books, Mr. Poppers Penguins and Treasure Island. These were just two books that Lucas had enjoyed when he was Liam's age, and he wanted nothing more than to share something that he loved with his own son.

Alexa had gotten Liam a game for his handheld game console.

Lucas had wanted to speak to Alexa about her recent shopping trip that morning but held back. The team had lost her inside the shopping mall, prompting a frantic call to Harry and then to Lucas. Although they found her an hour later, seemingly proud that she'd managed to give them the slip, Lucas could only do his best to control his annoyance at her the moment he and Liam arrived at the safe house.

Could Alexa not see the danger she had put herself in? There had been another tail present that day at the mall which had set alarm bells ringing for the surveillance team. They had identified a man from MI6 in the same mall just a few feet from Alexa in three different instances. Once would have been a coincidence, Lucas thought, and twice was pushing it. But three times?

Lucas did not say anything about the incident all throughout dinner, wanting only to enjoy his time with his family - for that's what they were now, he thought to himself.

They were a family.

But as he stood in the middle of the bedroom wanting nothing more than to hang up on Valentin, Lucas knew that the man was right in alerting him about the kill order. "Keep an eye out, Lucas. I am serious about this."

"I need to go," Lucas muttered and hung up the phone, a part of him wishing he had never answered the call although he knew that Valentin was not a man who easily gave up. He would have found a way to get to Lucas.

Lucas had always tried to keep his mobile phone off on weekends, or at least on silent, not wanting the affairs of Section D to cut into the meager family time he looked forward to after each week spent trying to save the country.

He wondered if this was how Harry had spent his family life, whether he had had enough time with his children when they were growing up. Lucas even found himself wondering if Harry's work on the Grid had been the reason for his divorce, and why he was estranged from his own children.

For the past four weeks since Lucas rescued Alexa from Gemini, he had settled into the routine of picking Liam up from St. Barnabas every Friday night, and returning him on Sunday. Headmaster Norman Jones personally did the handing over of Liam, always reminding Lucas that it was absolutely no problem for him to do so. As much as Lucas would have wanted to be with her more than just during weekends, he'd had to keep away from Alexa during the week. He didn't exactly want his every visit to Alexa broadcast throughout Section D.

Lucas stood by the window, staring at the street below. He could see the white surveillance van two car lengths away and then on the far end of the street, he saw another one arrive.

He brought a hand to his face, rubbing the day-old stubble absentmindedly. Outside, he heard Liam laugh and decided that it was time to join his family.

After all, his time with them was running out.

* * *

Sunday found Harry stopping by at the safe house at eleven that morning to pick up Liam and take him to see the Lion King at the Lyceum Theatre as a birthday present. It was an afternoon that Liam had looked forward to for the past two weeks, since Harry first announced to Liam that they were spending the day together.

But first on the docket, Harry told him, was lunch at the gentleman's club where he'd secured permission from his fellow members to bring Liam with him.

Since Nathaniel had been a long-time member, it hadn't been a problem for Harry to gain their permission, not that he really needed to. And Liam was excited to finally be able to see the place where his grandfather had once socialized. Even Harry had arranged for a special badge to be made for Liam, as an honorary member of the club that one day, he, too, would get to join when he got older.

"Wonderful," Alexa muttered as the door shut behind Harry and Lucas secured the deadbolts. "Introduce him to the old boys' club and he's not even twelve."

She was dressed casually in jeans and a shirt, and even without a trace of make up on her face, Lucas thought she looked beautiful. Alexa's blonde hair fell over her shoulders, framing her bare face and accentuating her wide green eyes and full lips.

"Are you alright?" He asked. "I know you would have rather be with Liam today, than send him off with Harry by himself."

Alexa shrugged. "He's been looking forward to this afternoon for two straight weeks, Lucas. Wouldn't you rather be them?"

Lucas walked towards her, bringing his hand to her face. "I'd rather be with you. We need to talk about a few things," he whispered. "But first, I have a surprise for you."

It took them half an hour to arrive at their destination, with Lucas having to inform the surveillance team first before the car could be brought around. Of course, they would have had to inform Harry, but as soon as Harry gave his approval, they were on their way, with Lucas taking the wheel of the car and Alexa beside him, her eyes behind a blindfold.

Lucas walked up the steps, Alexa gripping his arm as he told her how many steps to take. A smile graced her lips as Lucas opened the door, guided her inside and after shutting the door, undid the blindfold.

Alexa knew where Lucas was taking her the moment he stopped the car and opened the door for her. The smells of her home welcomed her, making each step she took with her eyes behind the blindfold becoming unbearable as the excitement mounted.

Though Alexa always considered her Trevor Square home as just a simple flat, it was so much more than that. It was a very expensive piece of historic real estate in Knightsbridge, and one that held memories of her mother. It was where she grew up and where she had raised Liam.

Alexa stopped on the foyer, memories suddenly assaulting her like the rush of an oncoming wind. She stared at the place around her, having expected the remnants of Mikhael's kidnapping and the search for surveillance equipment that, according to Harry, had caused the removal team to tear down some walls. But instead of finding a mess before her, Alexa found that everything looked just the way she remembered it.

Even the stairs bore no traces of damage at all.

She touched her hands along the bannister, and looked at Lucas as he slipped the keys into his jacket pocket, watching her reaction with a boyish smile on his lips.

"I haven't been able to see you during the last four weeks because I've been here," he said sheepishly. "Harry wasn't too happy about it, but I didn't want you to come in here with the place looking like..."

Lucas' voice trailed away, not wanting to bring back any mention of Mikhael.

"You did all this?" Alexa asked. "You fixed it? Even the bannister and the door upstairs?"

Lucas nodded. "I doubt the neighbor next door was happy about it, but she didn't complain. It took almost four weeks, but I did it." There was pride in his voice as Lucas brought his hands along the wall, inspecting his own handiwork.

Though it had been awhile since Alexa had had the interiors upgraded, making the place look a bit dated, it now gleamed with something more personal. It appeared warm and inviting, and she fought the tears that threatened to spill down her face.

There were no trace of the holes that had been drilled throughout the walls and ceilings, where they'd found the old surveillance cameras still functioning so many years after they'd first been installed by Jools' men. Lucas had patched and filled every single one of them, donning overalls every night after work to paint the walls and ceilings.

Alexa inspected the upstairs bedrooms, Lucas keeping his distance as he followed her. He loved watching the expression on her face as she surveyed her home, though a sadness followed soon after at the realization that he was sending her away very soon. He'd just finished all the work just the day before, annoying even Harry by asking the help of the surveillance team in getting the paint cans, brushes, and tools out of the house. Even Jo had volunteered in tidying up of the place after work, though in the end, Harry caved in and sent his own cleaning lady to do all the vacuuming and the dusting.

Lucas had planned on surprising Alexa and Liam with a visit to Trevor Square that day but he'd forgotten all about Harry's theatre date with Liam. He had been tempted to bring Liam over on Friday evening after the boy asked him for the umpteenth time if they could stop by the house so he could pick up his books. But Lucas couldn't get himself to leave Alexa out of the surprise then. He doubted very much that Liam would have been able to contain his excitement and not blurt out to his mother what Lucas had just done.

In the end, it had worked out. Lucas made a mental note to gather Liam's books before they'd leave today, but for now, he found himself smiling as he watched Alexa step into Liam's room.

Lucas had not touched Liam's room except for two holes in the walls which he had patched and filled as soon as the removal team left with the cameras they had discovered. When he couldn't find the paint that would have perfectly matched the existing one, Lucas found himself painting the entire room with a shade closest to it.

It was in Liam's room that Lucas realized what he had to do to keep Alexa and Liam safe.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" Alexa asked him as she stood in the middle of Liam's freshly painted room, white painted clouds above them.

Lucas smiled. "Not yet. But that doesn't mean you can't start now."

As Alexa ran into his arms, telling him she loved him again and again, Lucas held her, inhaling the scent of her hair and her skin, feeling her body mold against his. He kissed her, savoring the taste of her lips and feel the beating of her heart as he held her, never wanting to let go.

But even Lucas knew that he had no other choice.

It was time to let Alexa go.


	37. Chapter 37

Lucas stirred, feeling Alexa's warm fingers against his skin. Opening his eyes, he watched as she traced the tattoo of Urizen on his belly, her finger following along the compass that Urizen was holding in his hand.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" He asked, a strained smile on his face as he reached for his watch from the bedside table. It was only three in the morning and he'd been trying to fall asleep for hours, dark dreams flitting in and out of his consciousness. It hadn't helped that Alexa had apparently not been able to sleep as well, absentmindedly tracing Lucas' tattoo.

But Lucas couldn't blame her as he couldn't sleep either. In a few hours, all their lives were going to change, and Lucas hated himself for being helpless to stop it from happening.

As Lucas watched her, he saw the wetness on her lashes glistening in the moonlight. Deep within his chest, Lucas felt a tightness build and he shifted on the bed so he could bring his arm over her and hold her. He wondered when he would get to hold her like this again, and for a brief moment, it felt as if they were both waiting for the world to end.

"Urizen?" She asked, her attention returning to the tattoo on Lucas' belly. "Is he creating his own world here?"

Lucas brought his other hand behind his head as he made himself more comfortable, nodding. "Blake created his own mythology and Urizen represents Man and reasoning. He's crafting his own universe, maybe doing it from the light and creating the darkness, who knows? It depends on who you're talking to."

"Is that what we're doing, Lucas?" Alexa asked. "Creating a new world for us, away from all this madness with Jools?"

"Don't even say his name," Lucas muttered as he pulled her closer, feeling her breasts press against his chest. "It will be over soon, Alexa. They're transferring him to prison today, but you and Liam will be long gone by then."

Alexa was quiet, the expression on her face distant. She continued to play with the tattoo on his belly, tracing the sun from which Urizen emerged to create the chasm below. "I wish I could write our own future, Lucas. Where we're all together."

They were both naked beneath the covers, their legs brushing against each other as they shifted positions. Her legs felt soft and warm against his own, her belly against his. "Are you ready for this, Alex?"

She shook her head, her eyes shining with tears but she wiped them away before they could get the chance to fall down her cheeks. "No one can ever be prepared for this, Lucas. But I'm afraid for Liam. He'll be crushed when he finds out you're not coming with us."

Lucas sighed. Alexa was right. Liam would be crushed, as Lucas himself had been feeling the past few days since he had made the decision to let them go without him. Not that Lucas had a choice, and even he had to admit that it was the only way. No one would ever let him leave, let alone Valentin, who wanted to ensure that Arkady's trade had not been in vain.

The tribunal had finally sentenced Jools to life in prison, and already, the surveillance and protection detail on Alexa had ceased. The real reason, of course, had to do with budgetary concerns. Harry had requested favors from all levels of the government to ensure that the protection and surveillance detail last as long as they did. But with Jools finally sentenced, there was simply no need to protect Alexa anymore, even if she were his daughter.

But Lucas and Harry knew that though no attempt had been made on Alexa's life during that time, it did not mean that no one had been watching her every move. They'd identified two of the men as former MI6 operatives who used to work for Jools.

What they feared the most was that both men were the same ones who had been filmed inside Mikhael's apartment building the day that his wife and child were both locked inside the apartment where they burned to death. They did Jools' dirty work then, and Lucas feared that they were about to do it again.

And so Alexa and Liam had to leave. There was no other choice now. Harry only wished he could have sent them away sooner. She's not safe in England any longer, Lucas, Harry had reminded Lucas the night before. The plane has been chartered and tomorrow has to be the day.

"I'll follow you as soon as I can," Lucas whispered. "I'll talk to Liam again tomorrow, before you leave."

"Did you at least give him an idea that you're not coming with us?"

Lucas did not say anything. What could he say to a boy who never knew his father for the first eight years of his life and finally meet him - only to lose his father again after six weeks of being reunited with him? _ I'm going to be away from you again, Liam. I'm sorry._

No, Lucas couldn't do that. "I'll talk to him tomorrow," he said, wanting nothing more than to change the subject to something lighter. "For now, let's talk about us."

The mood between changed between them, and they smiled, as if some secret only they shared suddenly surfaced. Lucas grasped her hand, the lines she was tracing with her finger sending a tingle up and down his spine. He held up her hand, spreading her fingers with his own till he saw the sparkle of the diamond on her ring finger.

Ever since Lucas took her back to Trevor Square two days ago, Alexa had never been happier. She wished she could live within that moment forever, of her and Lucas standing in the middle of Liam's bedroom where Lucas then knelt on one knee before her.

"If word of this gets out of this room," Lucas smiled then, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "My reputation will be ruined."

He had asked her to marry him then, and Alexa, with tears streaming down her face, said yes. They didn't know what was going to happen next but what mattered was that they were going to be together, even if it meant that they'd have to wait awhile for that to happen.

Lucas hadn't planned for things to happen the way they did. He hadn't planned on asking her at all, not till after he drove up to Cumbria two days before he finished painting the flat to visit his parents for the first time since his imprisonment.

To say that Jeremy and Dorothy North were surprised to see him had been an understatement. He arrived at their house late at night, waking up his father who had fallen asleep on his chair in the study, the Bible open upon his chest. His mother had been sitting in the living room knitting a throw for a friend's grand daughter.

They had many questions to ask Lucas, but refrained apart from the usual pleasantries of how he was feeling, and whether he was still working as a security consultant in London.

But when they asked him how Alexa and Liam were doing, he stared at them in surprise. It was then that they told him that Alexa had come to them when Liam was only two years old, asking them if they would take care of Liam if anything happened to her.

"She said that her doctors claimed she'd had a breakdown and they had to put Liam in foster care," his mother said, taking a framed picture from the mantelpiece and handing it to Lucas. "It devastated her and she sought us out, so that Liam would get to know the family he had left, and know that he wasn't alone."

"Did she tell you where I was?" Lucas asked, his voice suddenly hoarse.

"No, and we didn't ask. You would have told told us eventually," his father said. "But all we had to do was look at Liam, and we knew he was yours, Lucas. Of course we said yes. We could have kept him with us forever if we could."

"Is everything alright, Lucas?" Dorothy asked, watching Lucas nod. "Did you now that we had to move away for some time a few months ago? They said that there was a gas leak in the house but the neighbors said that the gas company didn't even come in to do a single thing."

"Just a precaution," Lucas said as he looked at the photograph, seeing Alexa and Liam, then a baby in her arms. And next to her were his parents. Lucas saw the hollowness in Alexa's eyes, as if demons were plaguing her every move. It must have been during the time that Jools had her institutionalized at Bedlam for five days, he thought, anger rising inside him.

Jools. He had caused Alexa - her family - so much pain. And now he was doing it again even from behind bars.

"I want to marry her," Lucas suddenly blurted out then, not realizing what he'd said till after the words left his mouth. I want to protect them was what he really wanted to say, but it didn't matter now. Lucas still meant what he had said.  
His mother rushed out of the room only to return with something for him. She placed it in the palm of his hand, closing his fingers over it.

"Your father gave this to me when he proposed," she whispered as Lucas watched his father's face light up. "It belonged to your grandmother."

"Mother, I can't," Lucas said, shaking his head but she pushed his hand towards his chest, smiling.

"It's yours to give now," his mother said.

And as the small diamond glistened in the moonlight, Lucas rubbed his fingers around the band, relieved to discover that it fit Alexa's finger perfectly. He felt good having done what he did, just as it felt good to see his parents again, sleeping in his own bed, the same bed he slept in since he was a teen-ager. It was the same bed that his parents told him Alexa and Liam slept in when they'd talked her into staying the night each time they had come to visit.

"There's us now," he said, kissing Alexa's hair as he drew her closer. "Even if we have to be away from each other for a time, there'll always be us. But we have to trust each other."

"Are you saying we don't?"

"I said no such thing. But what if I won't be able to get to you sooner?" Lucas asked, frowning. He didn't know how long Valentin would expect him to stay in London and remain a double agent as part of the agreement Lucas had made with Arkady, although a part of him wanted nothing more than to work in MI5. "Would you really wait for me, Alexa?"

Alexa began to trace a trail down Lucas' chest, tracing Urizen again, remembering how, for eight years, the foolish young girl in her had hoped that he would come back even when she did not know whether he was alive or dead.

"Do you have to ask?" Alexa whispered, her hand traveling lower down his belly till Lucas grabbed hold of her wrist, holding it in place over the tattoo of Urizen's compass. Her hand had drifted a little too low for Lucas not to notice how his body was responding. He'd been fighting it for too long and he realized he was holding his breath.

Heat flushed through his face. Lucas felt himself hardening and he watched Alexa move so that she straddled him, the feel of sex against him, hot and warm. He brought his hands to her waist, wanting to feel her and hold her forever.

Alexa leaned forward to kiss him, her tongue parting his lips gently. Her tongue grazed his teeth, teasing his tongue as she ground her hips against him playfully. Lucas felt her hair cascade over him as she continued to kiss him, sucking on his lower lip. She reached down between them to hold him, hot and hard in her hand and stroke him, even as he felt himself parting her nether lips, seeking to enter her.

"So what are we going to do now? Sleep?" Alexa asked playfully as she drew away from him, a sly smile on her lips.

"Do you have to ask?" Lucas said and he kissed her deeply, capturing her tongue between his lips. Alexa moaned, her hips bucking above him but Lucas held her in place as he shifted his hips and thrust himself into her, feeling her body tense as she took all of him inside of her. Her protest was drowned in his kiss, her fingers entwined in his hair and neck, pulling him closer.

Alexa gasped as Lucas let go of her mouth, moving downwards to graze the skin of her neck, making her shiver in anticipation as moved her hips in tune with his thrusts. She felt him deep inside of her, exciting her and driving her into a frenzy of sensations that threatened to push her beyond the brink too soon.

Lucas sucked on her breast as she continued to ride him, shutting her eyes as he nibbled on a nipple and making her cry out his name as the delirious mixture of pain and pleasure drove her ever forward towards the edge. Sweat gathered along the small of her back, her movements causing her tattoo of Kali to seem like it danced in the light of the moon, as she moved her body in circles at the same time moving in time with each thrust of Lucas' hips.

"Stop," Lucas suddenly whispered, his voice hoarse and Alexa stared at him, confused.

"What?" She gasped, as she struggled to catch her breath, her heart beating like a drum inside her chest. For a moment, Alexa had lost herself in the emotions that had overcome her. His eyes seemed to search inside her, boring a hole through her and Alexa felt her chest tighten at what she saw. It was a yearning that needed to be filled in so little time that was left between them. It was all they had now.  
Lucas pulled her back down towards him, kissing her, their contact all lips, mouth and tongues meeting in an urgency that now consumed them. Lucas brought one hand behind her neck and his other hand along one hip, keeping himself inside of her as he shifted position, bringing himself to be on top of her.

This time Lucas wanted to be in control of her again, to be the one to consume her with every ounce of power he had left. His mouth left her lips to kiss the skin behind her ear as he continued to make love to her, feeling her nails rake along the skin of his back as he tasted her skin, smell the scent of her hair, and know her body like no one else ever had. Lucas knew what made her buck her hips in wild abandon and he held her down with his body, hearing her call out his name again and again as he thrust in and out of her, feeling his own release coming even as hers came in waves, her body shuddering beneath him as her orgasm took her again and again.

As his own release claimed him, Lucas wanted wanted nothing more than to have that moment last forever, where he could simply hold her and own her just as she had claimed him for herself. They clung to each other, their mouths seeking the other in wild abandon, tasting, sucking, biting. And when his release finally came, Lucas trembled as he felt the final spasms of his orgasm dissipate, leaving him weak and spent in her arms.

And afterwards, as they lay holding each other as the sky began to lighten, Lucas found himself whispering, even as Alexa finally fell asleep in his arms, "Everything will be alright."

It had to, Lucas thought as he welcomed the sleep that finally came.

* * *

Jools was seated behind the bare desk, his hands in hand-cuffs between his knees. He was flanked by two men who now stepped aside as Harry stepped into the cell. Jools brought his hands upon the table and watched Harry, his chin held high, still defiant.

"Won't you sit down, Harry?" Jools asked with a mocking smile on his lips.

Harry remained standing, crossing his arms in front of his chest. It was eight thirty in the morning and Harry was supposed to pick up Alexa and Liam and drive them to the airport. Instead, here he was with Jools Siviter, the last man Harry ever wanted to see. "They said you wanted to see me?"

"Yes," Jools replied. "Let's say that I asked you here so we could talk one last time before they sent me to join Sir Jocelyn Myers. You remember him, don't you?"

Sir Joceylyn Myers was Ros' father, sentenced to twenty years in prison for his part in a coup that had been organized by one of Jools' successors in MI6, Michael Collingwood. It would be three years since the day that Ros last saw her father as a free man.

"You brought this all upon yourself, Jools," Harry said. "Your betrayal has tainted your organization for a long time to come."

"Ah, but it's not as if it's the first time, is it?" Jools scoffed. "Collingwood was a traitor, too, but he took the cowardly way out, didn't he? Hanging himself with his belt before he could stand before the Tribunal."

Harry did not say anything.

"The tribunal heard nothing for me, Harry. Not a word of guilt on my part, " Jools continued. "So as far as some of my own men are concerned, and even others of my rank in various organizations, I'm innocent. Everything the tribunal based my sentencing on is because of the document Alexa brought back to the country. I wonder - did she pay them off? Did she sleep with every single one of them to get them to believe the fiction in that document?"

"Don't you dare besmirch her name again, Jools. Everything in that document was substantiated and proven," Harry said. "Don't pretend it didn't happen. Your treachery killed many good operatives - and civilians as well."

"Part of the course, Harry," Jools countered coolly. "Don't tell me that you never lost a civilian throughout the course of your illustrious career. I seem to recall Minerva George as an unwitting beneficiary in your hunt for justice so don't look so glum, Harry. It happens to all of us. It even happens to our own."

At this, Harry frowned, watching Jools' face carefully. It was an unspoken rule among them to leave family out of affairs such as this, although it was not exactly a rule to be followed by everyone. Hence the four-week protection detail around Alexa, Harry thought, for he knew he could not count on Jools to play fair. For the man never did.

"Why did you call me down here, Jools? I have more important things to take care of."

"Of course, I understand that you're a busy man, Harry," Jools said. "Isn't today when Alexa leaves England for the sunny shores of Chile? Is the plane all chartered and ready to go?"

Harry's face hardened, but he did not want to give Jools the benefit of a single expression. "I don't know what you're talking about, Jools," he said, glancing towards the door to motion to the guards that he was done. "You're wasting my time."

Jools smiled. "Sir Harry Pearce, ever the arrogant fool that you are. You're just like me, really. Too arrogant for your own good and too focused on your cause - no matter the cost. Even it means that a lovely girl and her son die in the process."

Harry frowned.

"You see, I just heard the news I've been waiting for for weeks, Harry," Jools said slowly, his voice bearing a menacing quality to it. "I always suspected it to be so, but Nathaniel was so convincing that night that for a second there, I actually believed him when he said that Alexa was your daughter."

Harry stared at Jools, his heart beating rapidly as he processed Jools' words.

"I would have left her alone, Harry, knowing she was yours. After all, to some degree, I am still a gentleman," Jools continued. "But you just couldn't let that one rest, could you, Harry? You had to find out the truth even if it were simply to prove to yourself that you never betrayed your best friend. Even when everyone knows that you did."

"Jools -"

"But you did betray Nathaniel, even if it did not produce the child you were recently led to believe was yours. And therein lies your the consequences of your arrogance, Harry - your need to constantly be right. For did you know that as long as Alexa was your daughter, I was going to leave her alone?"

Harry did not wait for another word to leave Jools' lips. He spun around, demanding that the door be opened even as Jools laughed at him long after Harry strode away. His heart beating rapidly inside his chest, Harry felt perspiration dot his forehead as he realized that Jools was right.

He had been too arrogant to admit that he'd made that one mistake. And instead of letting it be, knowing that it would have kept Alexa and Liam safe, Harry had pressed ahead and demanded to know the truth.

And the truth, he knew now, would bring about Alexa's death sentence.

* * *

As Harry was rushing out of the Nemworth Interrogation Unit, Connie had been standing by Malcolm's desk confirming the plans for Alexa's pick-up and flight arrangements when the mail clerk wheeled the cart through the door. Lucas had to meet with Ben at the regular drop location and had to leave Alexa and Liam at the flat till they would be picked up and driven to the airport. He would then meet them at the airport.

Connie still remembered how infuriated Lucas had been, having forgotten about his meet with Ben that morning. She had had to call him when he hadn't checked in remotely half an hour earlier.

"I can meet him for you, Lucas," Connie had volunteered even when she knew Lucas would never have allowed it. He was the officer in charge of the surveillance and the dead drops. There was no way he would have let someone else take over as much as he would have wanted to.

"I'll meet Ben," Lucas said almost angrily, but caught himself, his next words spoken with more calm. "It'll be no problem."

"I know you're nervous, Lucas," Connie said. "I wish things would have been different and they didn't have to leave."

"God, I wish that was the case, Connie," Lucas said before hanging up the phone.

As the mail clerk handed Connie the mail, he pulled out another pile and began to walk towards Harry's office.

"I can take that in for you," Connie offered, and the clerk handed her the pile of mail before wheeling the cart towards the other end of the office.

Inter-office mail was still part and parcel of the course inside Thames House, regardless of all the advancements in electronic delivery methods, and that usually kept the mail room quite busy.

As Connie placed the pile of letters on Harry's desk, one of them immediately caught her attention. It was a nondescript piece of mail, just a standard mailing envelope addressed to Harry Pearce from the Bioscience and Diagnostic Center with the stamped messages 'Urgent' and 'Do Not Forward' gracing the front and back of the envelope.

The flap was open, its seal very carefully pulled back but not glued back on. Connie frowned. Whoever had opened it hadn't even bothered to seal it properly, she thought as she pulled out the letter and unfolded it. Connie looked up, trying to spot the mail clerk again but he had gone.

As she read the results of the paternity test Harry had ordered weeks earlier, she paled, and for a moment her fingers trembled. She thought of Liam, and anger flashed across her face as she slipped the letter back inside and tucked the envelope beneath a copy of Rugby International.

"Harry, you fool," she muttered as she walked out of Harry's office and made her way quickly to the roof top, pulling her mobile phone from her pocket. "What the hell have you done?"


	38. Chapter 38

As soon as Harry had left the corridor, Jools leaned back smugly against the wall. For the past four weeks, Jools had hoped that the evidence against him would be exposed as having been fabricated. For how difficult was it to put his head on someone else's body in a photograph?

Jools, however, never expected the video footage, as crisp as it had been filmed more than twelve years earlier and done so at such close range. Oksana had been sitting right in front of him when she had positioned the camera, catching him in speaking in every angle imaginable that left no doubt as to his identity.

Now the video footage, Jools had to agree, was quite difficult to fake.

And that was what had turned the tide against him. Even his wife, the honorable Queen's Counsel had turned away from his gaze when the videos were played, one after the other, her face turning pale and her eyes boring into him coldly.

When Jools demanded to know who had handed them over, they simply told them that a reliable source had done so.

"A girl whose sanity has been questioned constantly, who has been deemed three times by the Family courts to be a danger to her own child?"

But Richard Dolby, current head of the JIC, simply shook his head, his face in a frozen grimace. How many times had Jools dined with Richard and his family? How often had they shared a glass of cognac at the gentleman's club where they were members? More than he could count, Jools thought, but today, as he stood before Richard and the rest of the tribunal, none of those late night meetings and social gatherings could help him now.

"The source is very reliable, Mr Siviter," Richard simply said again. "To be quite frank with you, the source of this report and evidence could even be anonymous. What matters is that the evidence is authentic and quite impossible to deny."

Ah, Jools wanted to add, but Alexa George was instrumental in getting the evidence to the JIC. She was the one who had tracked it down at the brothel and handed it over to the right people who then handed it over to the JIC. It did not matter whether the drop had been done anonymously, Jools thought. She was still the messenger.

Because of that, Alexa would never be free of the threat of Jools wanting to exact vengeance for what she had eventually caused - his downfall.

For as of last night, when Jools had received the information about a letter recently arrived for Harry Pearce from the biomedical laboratory known for paternity testing, he knew then how he would get back at the very man who had betrayed him. He knew now who had betrayed him from the Russian office, and because of that betrayal, after more than twenty years of service to the KGB, Jools was going to make sure that the Russian was going to pay.

Oh, Harry, Jools smiled. You made it so easy for me. I would never have touched Alexa had she remained your daughter.

But the latest results of the paternity testing Harry had requested, using the DNA of another man he suspected to be Alexa's real father - prompted by the man's sudden appearance in London - was a godsend for Jools.

Now he could exact his vengeance. For no one could ever count Jools out. Not yet.

The Russian would know how it would feel to lost the child he'd come to London to save, the grandson he barely knew. He would find out how well Jools could still play the game, even from behind bars. For no one could ever count Jools out.

He would kill Alexa and her son with no remorse whatsoever, Jools thought, and neither would he even worry about the blame being placed upon him. And why should they blame him? He was behind bars. He was just a helpless prisoner, victim to fabricated nonsense about him. From where he sat, Jools knew that there was no way anyone could blame him for the deaths at all.

It had taken the cooperation of his wife to handle everything on the outside. There were still those loyal to Jools, both inside and outside the prison, who were more than willing to do the work. They owed him. He'd saved their lives many times, even if it meant fabricating evidence against the other party, or destroying evidence. They all owed him.

As he glanced at the clock, Jools took a deep breath and smiled. It had begun.

"Is everything in place?" He asked in a low voice, too low for the cameras and microphones to register as the guard coughed at the same time. No one should really count Jools Siviter out just yet, he smiled.

"Yes, sir" the man assigned to guard Jools replied. "It's all happening as we speak."

* * *

Liam was upset. He'd been enjoying breakfast with Lucas when he received a call from Connie reminding him of his regular meeting with Ben, who was working undercover within a Muslin cell. As Lucas gulped down the rest of his coffee and took one more spoonful of cereal that he and Liam had shared, he kissed Liam on the forehead and dashed out the door.

And now, an hour since after Lucas left, Liam was still visibly angry.

Alexa zipped the backpack closed and handed it back to Liam. "I'm so sorry, Liam," she said, bringing the backpack by the door along with her own bag. "But your father promised to meet us at the airport. The driver will be here in ten minutes."

"He couldn't even finish breakfast with me," Liam said angrily as he stomped his foot. "I hate his job. I hate him."

The emotions that rose within Alexa took her by surprise. She grabbed Liam by the shoulders as she dropped on one knee to level her face with his. "No, you don't," she hissed angrily, her fingers digging into his skin as he winced. "Lucas has done so much for us, Liam. You'll never understand just how much."

Liam stared at her, Alexa's tone of voice taking him by surprise and tears spilled down his cheeks. Realizing what she had done, Alexa released her hold of his shoulders and pulled her close to him, feeling his hair against her face.

"I'm so sorry, Liam. I am so sorry. I don't want to leave either."

She held him tightly, feeling his little body shaking in her arms as Liam began to sob. "I just want my daddy," Liam whispered. "Why can't we just stay here? I'll be good. I promise."

"I wish we could stay, too, but we can't," Alexa said as she smoothed his hair, wondering how she could remain strong for him. Since Lucas had left that morning, she'd felt an emptiness in her chest, a hollowness that seemed to pull her into a void with each passing minute. "I would give anything to have him with us - with you, Liam - if I could."

But this is beyond my control, she wanted to tell him, closing her eyes as she recalled the last hours she'd spent with Lucas. It's all beyond Lucas' control, too.

Alexa had fallen asleep in Lucas' arms as the sun was slowly rising in the sky and even when it was time to get up two hours later, they'd held on to each other, talking about what was about to happen.

"When will you come for us?"

Lucas sighed. "When I'm done here," he replied softly, avoiding her gaze. With the threat of Russia looming over every aspect of national security, Lucas knew he had an important role to play in Section D. His expertise and his connection to the Russians because of his status as a double agent had insured that he'd have one foot in England and the other in Russia. As much as he hated to be known as a double agent, it was a role he had willingly agreed to perform when Arkady and Nathaniel offered him his freedom even though he had no intention of following through with any task that required him to betray his country.

"You're walking a fine line, Lucas," Alexa said. "Valentin will know you're playing him if you don't give him whatever he wants."

"It's the price I paid for my freedom, Alex," Lucas said. "I don't think I could have handled one more day in that hell."

They held each other for a few minutes, Alexa lazily tracing circles on Lucas' skin and Lucas playing with her hair.

"Do you ever blame me?" She asked. "For your imprisonment, I mean. If I hadn't delivered that report from Mikhael, Harry would never have sent you back to Moscow to look for him."

Lucas turned to look at her, shifting his body so he lay on his side, still cradling her head on his arm. "Суженого конем не объедешь."

"You can't escape your fate," she translated, smiling faintly. "Even with a horse."

"Exactly," Lucas said, kissing the tip of her nose. "What's done is done, Alex, and there's nothing you or I can do to change that. What matters now is that you and Liam will be out of London in a few hours and you will be safe."

"I wish you could come with us, Lucas," Alexa said.

"After everything here is done, I promise I'll come for you both."

Alexa glanced at the sky outside their window. She kissed Lucas, her lips gentle upon his, wanting nothing more than to taste him and inhale his scent one last time as his arms drew her ever closer. His lips parted hers, his tongue seeking entry to taste her and Lucas felt her legs open to circle his hips feeling himself grow hard against the moist heat between her legs.

He groaned, feeling Alexa's hands against the back of his neck, pulling him down as the nails of her other hand raked his skin. Their bodies joined together one last time, a frantic coupling that left them physically sated yet emotionally empty at the same time.

When Liam knocked on the door half an hour later, Alexa tucked the sheet about her, smiling as Liam came over to give her a hug. Lucas pulled on a pair of jogging pants and a tank top, fastening his watch about his wrist as he kissed Liam on the forehead.

"Can we make breakfast?" Liam had asked then and Lucas laughed, nodding.

"Let me jump in the shower first," he said, rubbing Liam's hair as he ducked into the bathroom and within minutes, they heard the water running.

These were the moments all three of them shared together that Alexa knew she would miss most of all, feeling the heaviness in her chest grow deeper with each passing minute as she held on to Liam. She couldn't believe the time had come.

For weeks, she had wondered what was causing the delay, wanting nothing more than to leave already, even without Lucas for she knew that it would be impossible for him to leave without risking his life.

He was a double agent after all, even Alexa had to accept that. Valentin would never let him go until he'd gotten some use out of Lucas.

The thought of Valentin made Alexa frown. There was something about the man that struck her as familiar. It was a feeling that had come to her when she first saw him, as if she'd seen him before but she could not place him at all.

Was it during her time in Russia, she wondered? Had he been one of her clients during her time with Mikhael? No matter how hard she looked back at that time, she couldn't place him anywhere in Moscow. But where then?

There was something about the way he had looked at her at the brothel, the way he'd actually saved their lives and let them escape. He had called Ros directly and told them where to find Alexa and Lucas.

But he was still FSB, Alexa thought. Arkady's replacement and probably cut from the same cloth - ruthless and not one to be trusted at all. The only reason Valentin had saved them was because he was simply protecting an investment - Lucas. If Lucas had been what got Arkady the job in London, Valentin was making sure that he would have control of the same asset.

Just yesterday, she had seen him just outside her window, long after the protection detail had left. He had been inside the passenger seat of a black car, his window rolled down halfway which gave Alexa a glimpse of him before the windows rolled back up and hid him from view.  
It was him, she thought. And he was watching the flat. She wondered if she should have told Lucas, but she hadn't, forgetting all about him the moment Lucas walked through the door and took her in his arms. Besides, she thought, he was probably watching Lucas.

What on earth would he want from her?

It was all out of her control now, Alexa reminded herself. People had their games and she no longer wanted to be part of them.

For a few moments, Alexa held Liam as she fought back the tears, not wanting him to see her cry at all for she knew that once she would start, she wouldn't be able to stop herself. And he would know the truth before Lucas would have the chance to tell Liam himself. Up to that point, Liam hadn't been told that Lucas wasn't coming with them even though she'd asked him how he would feel if Lucas couldn't come with them because he had some work to do still in London.

"He can find work where we're going, can't he?" Had been Liam's answer.

The knock on the door broke the silence between them, and Alexa let go of Liam, watching him walk towards where she had left his backpack, and pick it up. She peeked through the peep hole. It was their driver, she thought, opening the door and allowing the man in the dark suit step inside.

"You're early," she said.

"Better early than late," he said, smiling. "Your flight leaves on schedule, Miss George, so we can't have any delays. It's also the London rush hour."

The driver took one look at the the backpack on the floor and gave her a strange look, as if asking if this was all they were traveling with. Alexa was grateful that he said nothing. He picked up Alexa's backpack and returned to the car. Alexa had packed light, knowing that she wouldn't need to carry much, not when they were literally sneaking out of the country.

Even if Harry had arranged a private plane for them, she didn't want to burden anyone with a household of luggage. Two pieces of carry-on luggage was all she was taking with her - one for her and one for Liam. Those, and a thumb drive containing all the information about her life and finances which she had in her jeans pocket.

Alexa had left the bulk of her living trust under Lucas' name, with investment earnings going to the foundation. Because Harry reminded her that she was now theoretically dead, the only way she could have control of her money would have to be through Lucas. Which meant that she had to trust him explicitly.

"We have to get in the car now, Liam," Alexa said, herding Liam outside. She knew that the protection detail had ended and she didn't want to linger too long outside. After complaining for so long about all the surveillance, it had finally gotten to her, she thought. She actually missed seeing the van and the people following her.

The limo was parked right outside the flat and the driver pulled open the door. He smiled at Liam and the boy finally allowed Alexa to push him inside. She felt like she was herding cats, she thought.

Her phone rang and Alexa pulled it from her jeans pocket. It was Lucas. She hit the answer button as quickly as she could but the driver suddenly appeared by her side and grabbed the phone from her and turned it off.

"What did you do that for?" Alexa cursed angrily but she froze when she heard Liam's voice call out to her, his tone making the hair at the back of her neck stand on end.

"Mummy, don't get in," Liam said but it was too late. Alexa's legs froze where she stood, everything around her seeming to be frozen in its frame as the driver pushed her inside and door slammed shut behind her.


	39. Chapter 39

_**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Kudos and BBC. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.**_

Jools was reading the newspaper when his wife came to visit him. A respected barrister, Hillary Watt QC had risen to the position of Queen's Counsel because of her intelligence, tenacity and ambition. She had been the primary counsel against Zoe Reynolds when the MI5 operative went on trial for conspiracy to murder and involuntary manslaughter, successfully convincing the jury to sentence her to ten years in prison.

Born to working class parents, Hillary had always thought that she had truly risen above her station despite her own hard-won successes by marrying into the ready-made aristocracy that was Jools Siviter. But that was before his sentencing to a life in prison that morning.

She had worked out a plan to appeal the case, convinced that Jools had been framed from the very beginning by the very people who had always been jealous of his power and position as head of MI6. Jools could be pompous, arrogant, rude and condescending, but he was still a outstanding man who worked hard for what he wanted and, she believed, did things by the book - mostly.

That was until she saw the video evidence presented to her the day before, when she had convinced the prosecution to show it to her in her private quarters ahead of time.

"I need to make sure it's authentic," she had told the prosecutor, whom Hillary had worked with for almost fifteen years. "Besides, even if it is real, I'd rather not have my mouth hanging open at the tribunal."

She watched the videos in silence, replaying key moments to make sure that she was indeed looking at Jools. She recognized the firm set of his mouth when he was thinking of something to say and the way he sized up his opponent with the way his eyes looked up and down before he'd smile and say something entertaining to detract from what he was about to really say or do.

She knew then that Jools had lied to her all this time. All those trips to Europe had included not just actual work that went into his operations, but also in the assisting and brokering of sales of nuclear weapons between hostile countries. He knew his voice, the way his words seemed to slip out of his mouth so smoothly and with such wit that anyone listening would seem he was paying them a compliment before realizing, or never even realizing, that he'd just followed it up with an insult.

That was the Jools she knew.

It was then that Hillary knew that she had no choice on what to do next.

How could she continue working in court when her reputation would be tainted by a husband who had fallen so far from grace and was about to spend the rest of his life in prison? Would she be able to look back at the people who would gaze upon her with pity or hatred, and in the process, be effective at what she did?

Hillary could not even defend her own husband even if she had wanted to for even she knew, as a former barrister for the defense, that the evidence against him was just too damning.

She had read the report that had been submitted nine years earlier. And although Hillary thought that she could successfully raise the issue of reasonable doubt, considering that the person who had filed the report, along with its evidence collector, were all deceased, and the messenger of the report considered psychologically unbalanced, it was the presence of the newly acquired video and audio evidence that made her defense impossible.

She did not want to further jeopardize her career in the queen's court by defending a traitor to the realm, one who apparently had been betraying the country for over fifteen years, much longer than their own marriage.

So Hillary Wyatt found herself in a quandary.

And when Jools instructed her to send messages to a man who proved too shadowy for her taste, her own suspicions had been aroused, though she realized too late that Jools had just used her to send an order to execute a mother and son. So he was guilty, she thought then. For why kill the woman he kept insisting had been the messenger all along? Why did Jools hate the young woman so much?

And so Hillary decided to take matters into her own hands.

The longer Jools would live, even if he were behind bars, would mean that she would never be respected as a queens counsel ever again. But if something happened to him before he would have the chance to appeal, it would look like someone had wanted to silence him. Hillary had defended too many of the guilty to know how such things worked.

Procuring what she needed had been easy. She simply had to tell the same man Jools had sent her to relay the message that she wanted to make sure that somebody else was not going to talk. He hadn't even bothered to ask who. He simply gave her the clear liquid in a vial, instructed her to smear the lip of the glass with a cotton tip or rag, or if nothing was available, her own finger but just to be sure that she washed her hands very well afterwards.

"She'll have a heart attack. At least that's how it's going to appear."

Hillary thanked the despicable man and went about her way.

As she kissed her husband on the cheek, telling him that their girls missed him and had wanted to come along but had been prohibited to by the tribunal, Hillary smiled and placed the bottle of mineral water on the table between them.

She was going to be damned if Jools was going to embarrass her anymore than he already had. She had come from a working class family who valued hard work above all else, and while aristocracy and old money were good to have, it meant nothing when it was tainted with the taste of betrayal to the country.

This way, Jools would still die a hero, even if Hillary would paint him as a tainted one after it was all over, betrayed by a psychologically unbalanced and vengeful woman named Alexa George who, if Jools' plans went without a hitch, would be dead within the hour.

* * *

Lucas frowned as he found himself staring at his mobile phone. After calling Alexa and listening to the phone ring once, he listened as she answered, only to have the line go dead. When Lucas dialed her number again, his call went straight to voicemail.

Terror gripped him as he sped through M25 till he arrived at Luton Airport, making his way to Gate 7 where he obtained clearance to enter the private charter area. Harry had taken care of all the arrangements during the last two weeks, making sure that the plane was ready to take off as soon as Alexa and Liam arrived. There would be no time for long good-byes and already, Lucas could feel his throat tighten at the thought that he would not be seeing Alexa and Liam for some time.

Lucas stopped the car and got out. Two private jets were parked in front of the hangar but no one was around, except for a petrol truck that was driving away from him, towards another mid-sized that was parked in front of a one-story building.

In the distance, the rest of Luton airport was teeming with activity yet the private terminal remained quiet.

Lucas heard that the terminal was undergoing some new developments and as he walked briskly towards the closest plane, its door wide open before the stairway, he could see that the new building was taking shape. The outer architecture was complete although as he turned to look through the glass, the interior was still undergoing some improvements.

Two men were installing some rows of seats in the first floor, ignoring Lucas as he walked past them just outside the window. Lucas glanced at his watch. Alexa and Liam should be arriving in the next five to ten minutes, he thought.

He dialed Alexa's number again, cursing under his breath as it went straight to voicemail. He dialed Harry, who answered on the third ring.

"Harry, have you been able to get in touch with Alex?"

"The driver just called me right now. He's outside the flat but no one's answering the door," Harry said.

Lucas cursed. "Then have him kick the door in, Harry," he countered as he climbed up the stairway towards the plane, stopping to release his gun from his shoulder holster when he realized that no one had welcomed him at the top of the stairs. The hairs at the back of his neck stood on end. Something was terribly wrong.

"Hold on, Harry," Lucas switched the ear piece on and tucked the phone in his jacket pocket. Holding the gun in front of him, Lucas made his way silently through the threshold, finding the silence within it disquieting as he walked towards the cockpit, clearing each space as best he could before advancing.

"Hello," he called out. "Anyone here?"

The silence that greeted Lucas' made his skin crawl and as he made his way to the front of the plane, he saw them. Three of the crew were strapped to the jump seats, a bullet through each of their foreheads and Lucas was grateful that at least, it had been quick for them.

Silently he continued his way to the cockpit, pushing the door open with his boot. The pilot and co-pilot must have been checking the controls when the killer came in, Lucas thought, shooting the crew first before shooting the men. They both were slumped over the controls, the lights still blinking beneath their blank stares.

Lucas felt the charge in the air as someone stepped behind him. As he slammed towards his left, hitting his shoulder against the wall of the narrow corridor, Lucas heard the muffled sound of the bullet just as he turned his head to the right. The smell of sulfur filled the small space between then and Lucas lunged forward, catching the man in the chest and together they tumbled backwards. Lucas slammed the man's arm against the floor so that the gun with its silenced barrel clattered away from them.

He recognized the man immediately. He was one of the men who had been recorded in Mikhael's apartment building almost fifteen years earlier, accused of murdering Mikhael's wife and son. He was a former MI6 operative who had simply disappeared fifteen years ago although Lucas suspected that the man worked primarily for Jools.

"Why?" Lucas shouted angrily, pinning his forearm against the man's burly neck. The thought that the man had been sent to kill Alexa and Liam drove Lucas to a point that he could barely control himself. Would this man truly kill a child, Lucas asked himself even though he already knew the answer. Didn't they kill Oksana and her one year old baby years ago?

"I do only as I'm told," the man spat, pushing Lucas off him. As Lucas fell against the seats behind him, the man reached for his gun and pointed it at him, pulling the trigger again.

This time, the bullet grazed Lucas' arm and he cursed, grabbing hold of a silver tray from the table and throwing it at him. As the man brought his arm up to defend himself, Lucas shot the man twice in the chest. The man fell back over the row of white leather seats, blood smearing against them as his body slid down onto the floor.

"Lucas, are you alright?" Harry was shouting in his earpiece as Lucas walked over towards the man lying on the floor and kicked the gun as far away as possible. He could hear the sound of gurgling before silence took over and Lucas exhaled. He looked down at his arm, feeling the sting of the bullet that grazed him.

"I'm alright, Harry," Lucas replied.

"I'm less than five minutes away, Lucas," Harry said. "CO19 is right behind me."

"Is there any way we can find out where they are, Harry," Lucas asked, a tinge of desperation in his voice. "Please tell me they're alright."

Harry paused, but even Lucas knew the answer. "No, Lucas. I can't get a hold of them at all."

The sounds of a plane preheating and a car screeching to a stop in the distance caught Lucas' attention and he ran outside. Where the petrol truck had stopped to fuel the private plane in the distance earlier, Lucas could see that it was now driving away. He could see the pilots through the cockpit, busy over the controls as he raced down the steps and towards the other plane.

The limousine stopped right by the stairway that led to the plane and at the top of the steps, Lucas saw two flight attendants flanking the door. Lucas recognized Alexa immediately as she emerged from the limousine, the driver holding the door open for her and Liam.

Alexa looked behind her, as if listening to someone from inside the car and Lucas watched as she hesitated at the bottom of the steps. She kept her head low and holding on to Liam's arm, they made their way towards the plane.

The glint of metal in the sun caught Lucas' eye and he looked up at the rooftop of a temporary building located to the left of the plane. He saw the unmistakable barrel of a rifle, a man's head leaning forward to take aim.

"Alex!" He yelled just as the crack of the rifle filled the air at the same time that Alexa turned to look towards him, a look on relief on her face. But the expression on her face was replaced with shock as she staggered backwards against the side of the door, yanking Liam with her as the flight attendants screamed and ducked back inside the plane.

Liam stumbled back just before falling two steps down.

Everything turned to slow motion in front of Lucas as Liam's name escaped his lips. He aimed for the roof and fired two shots, knowing he was too far for any of his shots to reach its mark. The black barrel of the rifle disappeared from the rooftop.

"Daddy," Liam shouted and Lucas froze as he watched Liam run down the stairs, the boy's eyes only on him.

One of the flight attendants knelt over Alexa, pulling her inside the plane. From the building, Lucas saw the man from the roof jump down the ledge and raise his gun again, pointing it towards the plane.

The man fired three successive shots just as someone emerged from the limousine, pulling Liam down onto the ground and keeping him safe behind the barrage of bullets that hit the opposite side of the vehicle. The plane's engines hummed loudly and Lucas could see the man pull Liam back up the stairs towards the plane, but the gunman's next round of bullets brought them back behind the cover of the limousine again.

Lucas kept running, realizing that this was an execution. The gunman had barely even registered Lucas' running form, his attention solely on Liam and the man in the dark suit who was keeping Liam down.

Lucas tackled the man before he could shoot again and as they grappled on the hot ground, he heard the plane's engines hum louder. Lucas cursed, screaming Liam's name as he watched the man pull Liam up the steps, disappearing through the door of the plane. Their guns, dropped in the midst of their struggle, were too far to grab but Lucas finally got the man into a chokehold, the man's back against him and his forearm tightening over the man's windpipe.  
Lucas watched helplessly as the door to the plane was pulled shut and it began to move away. He shouted in frustration, tightening his hold on the gunman even after the man had ceased to move, the rage coursing through his veins now too great to control. He could only think of Alexa and Liam, wondering if Alexa was safe.

The bullet had hit her on the chest. He'd seen it with his own eyes.

When the man finally ceased breathing, Lucas released the man's body and got up, his legs weak as he watched the plane make its way along the runway, probably having gotten the quick go-ahead to take off. Realizing that Harry was no longer on the line, he pulled out his phone and dialed Harry's number.

"Turn the plane around, Harry," Lucas demanded, the words coming out ragged from his lips as Harry's car stopped in the distance, a dark van right behind it. He hung up the phone to meet him.

"They're gone," Lucas said to Harry as the older man finally arrived, his voice breaking. "Please tell me that plane was ours, Harry," Lucas said as began dialing the Grid. "Tell me you had another plan in place."

Harry's face told Lucas everything he needed to know, and as CO19 swarmed the jet that Harry had chartered for Alexa, now nothing more than a container filled with dead bodies, Lucas' knees finally gave way beneath him and he sank to the ground, burying his head in his hands.

Harry watched helplessly as the plane grew smaller in the sky, knowing that if he ordered to have the plane rerouted or turned around, whoever knew of their original plans would know instantly that Alexa and Liam were on that plane.

_But who had Alexa now?_

Someone else had snatched them from the safe house, someone who had known of Harry's plans. On the phone, he could hear Malcolm's voice telling him that the jet that had just taken off had been chartered under the name of a cosmetic surgeon named Morrison. But before Malcolm could say anymore, Connie's voice came on the line, panic in her voice.

"Harry, it's all over the news," she said. "Please tell me they got out."

"What are you talking about, Connie? What's all over the news?"

In the background, Harry heard the volume being turned up and the newscaster speaking about a car explosion in the city and that the victims, two of the three civilians had been identified. _Tragic news today as the victims of the car bomb just this morning have been identified as Alexa George and her son, Liam George. Alexa George was the daughter of former ambassador to Ukraine, Nathaniel George and founder of the Found Hope Foundation that has helped thousands of displaced victims of human trafficking. We will continue to update you with information as we receive it..._

Before Harry could say anything, Ros was on the phone.

"The car sent to pick her up had been rigged with explosives, Harry. Luckily the driver was inside Alexa's flat when it exploded," she said. "But we never released anything to the media outlets. Or did you?"

"No, I didn't, Ros" Harry replied curtly. "They killed everyone on the original flight." Harry said as he watched CO19 enter the plane that was now nothing more than a coffin.

"So if we don't have Alexa and Liam, Harry," Ros asked. "Who's got them now?"


	40. Chapter 40

_**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Kudos and BBC. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.**_

Valentin Durev watched Alexa slowly peel the bullet-proof vest as she sat a few seats away from him, Liam by her side. Alexa had already removed Liam's vest and had helped the child put his shirt back on. Valentin was grateful that the killers hadn't elected to take head shots for if they had, then the vests would have done nothing to save them.

The boy was still crying, asking for his father, and for a moment, Valentin wondered if he'd done the right thing to take them away from Lucas the way he just did.

But even as he saw the ugly bruise darkening against Alexa's chest just above the neckline of her tank top, Valentin knew he had done the right thing. He had heard of the kill squad sent to eliminate mother and son, had seen photographs of a bomb installed in the car that was to be sent to pick them up from the safe house. He knew that he couldn't take a chance that Harry just might have learned about the same kill order as well.

The first intelligence reports Valentin had intercepted about the kill squad had been nothing more than a distraction. Even when he had warned Lucas about it days earlier, it had been Valentin's intuition that told him to scan the underground networks more thoroughly.

It had been the only thing that saved them all now, he thought. For if he hadn't scanned it one more time, just hours before Alexa's departure, they would be dead now.

Valentin had not risen up the FSB ranks as a simple communications liaison officer for nothing. He had his sources, and he had his secrets. It had taken Valentin a long time to make his way to London through the regular channels, working his way through the hierarchy that had Arkady Kachimov always one step ahead of him.

At every turn, Arkady was always first in line before him in every promotion, but Valentin had learned patience through the course of his work both in the fields of communications and information collection and analysis, where he excelled.

He was a quiet man, discreet in everything he did and always careful with everything he said. Even within the FSB, he knew that one had to be careful with what they thought of and spoke of.

Valentin had begun his career in the Russian foreign service as a communications officer in Prague, assigned to shadow the secret communications of a certain Harry Pearce, who the Russians knew was spearheading a top secret operation called Omega. Omega had been designed to spread misinformation about RAF activities in Germany.

It was during this time that Valentin was introduced to a woman named Minerva Reina.

Even her name was divine, he remembered now. Minerva was associated with the goddess Athena and her surname, Reina, was Spanish for 'queen'. That she herself was queenly in bearing was an understatement and Valentin remembered how he had fallen for her, just as other men around her did.

But Minerva's weakness had been power. She had been the daughter of a man who had once been wealthy and respected in Argentina, but had fallen into hard times. All she had left for her was her name, which still could command respect in certain circles, but not among the circles that mattered to her. She excelled in languages while in school and set for Europe the moment she graduated with honors.

She had been infatuated with Harry Pearce when Valentin first met her, though she had been unaware then that Harry's wife was expecting their first child in a matter of weeks and was about to embark on a full-on affair with another woman who was almost his equal in the security services, Juliet Shaw.

When Harry broke off their short-lived affair, she had been devastated and turned to Valentin, who had managed to charm her during her heartbreak. Weeks later, she would meet Nathaniel George, a man who would give her the wealth and status she had craved for so long.  
While Nathaniel may have been highly intelligent and savvy in political circles, rising fast in the field of nuclear energy, he was naive when it came to the woman he married. Valentin continued to see her long after she married the young ambassador, and when Alexa was born, he knew immediately that the child was his.

When he appeared at the hospital where she had given birth, he managed only to take one look at the baby through the glass partition before Minerva and Nathaniel returned to London. Nathaniel may have been naive, but he was not stupid.

It took Valentin eight years before he would see Minerva again. Nathaniel had been assigned to Ukraine as ambassador at the same time that Valentin was assigned at the Russian communications office. It was there that Valentin got to meet Alexa again when Minerva finally relented and allowed him to see his daughter during their daily visits to the park.

Valentin never expected Alexa to remember him the first time she saw him again at the brothel. And why should she? He would have been nothing more than a fleeting memory of a man who used to tell her Russian fables, pleased to know that her mother had begun to teach her the language that he himself spoke.

And as Valentin watched Alexa hold Liam tight against her, safe in the plane that would hopefully take them out of harm's way, he wondered at what price he was about to pay for saving their lives.

* * *

Ros found Lucas sitting in front of his computer long after everyone had left the Grid. It had been five days since Alexa and Liam had left. Lucas had devoted himself completely to Ben's surveillance detail, often hardly taking breaks for hours as he sat inside the van watching and listening. He hardly spoke to anyone at the Grid except for the cursory greetings and his daily reports, and Ros was worried.

Even Harry had given up asking Lucas how he was doing, himself too preoccupied about other things.

Jools Siviter had been found dead in his prison cell the same morning that Alexa and Liam had been flown out of England by a yet-unknown person. Jools' guard that day was nowhere to be found. The medical examination stated that Jools had been poisoned, his water bottle laced with a nerve toxin that killed him by stopping his heart.

Ros could understand Harry's preoccupation. Besides, he had to speak at Alexa and Liam's memorial that afternoon, a well-attended event that Lucas did not go to.

"Hey there," Ros said as she sat at her desk facing him. "How are you?"

Lucas looked up from the computer screen, as if suddenly realizing that he wasn't alone. "Isn't it too late for you to still be here?" He asked Ros, getting up and grabbing his coat.

Circles lined the underside of Lucas' eyes and his skin looked pale. Ros could see that he wasn't sleeping well, if at all. "If ever you need to talk, Lucas, I'm here."

"Thanks, Ros," Lucas said. He slipped on his coat and pulled out his mobile phone, looking at the screen as if expecting something. Then his lips thinned into a straight line, his eyes shuttered and he returned the phone into his coat pocket. It was something that Ros had noticed him doing since the day at the airport.

"Have you heard from Alexa at all?"

Lucas shot Ros a terse look, as if the mention of her name had upset him. "No," he replied, looking away from her gaze.

There was so much that Lucas would have wanted to say. He wanted to tell Ros that he felt so empty, so barren, that he hated Alexa for not contacting him at all. Was she still alive? Where was his son? How could she take Liam away from him the way she did - if she were still alive? He had asked Malcolm to scan for emergency room visits that involved a gunshot wound to the chest but had come up with nothing that matched Alexa. Lucas wanted to tell Ros so many things, but all that came out of his mouth was the word no.

He had called Valentin Durev shortly after returning to the Grid from the airport that day, but was informed that the man was out of the country and would not be back for some time. Exactly what it meant, Lucas had no idea but something nagged at him.

The timing of it all.

When he asked Malcolm to look into Valentin's files, all Malcolm got at every turn were classified, prohibited for collection. Even the man's employment history had been deemed only for Level 1 access within the FSB. And when Malcolm finally breached the firewalls and managed to pull out Valentin's complete file, Lucas and Malcolm found themselves looking at an empty screen.

It was as if the man had never existed.

It was three thirty that morning when Lucas found himself inside Alexa's flat that he decided to look at her photo albums. Lucas couldn't exactly remember what made him look through her baby photos, smiling as he looked at one photograph after another and feeling the heaviness in his heart only grow denser.

Maybe he was looking for a connection between them, now that she was gone from him. Lucas was beyond trying to find the answers to all his questions. He was too proud to show his pain to anyone on the Grid, too used to shutting himself out from the world around him after eight years at Lushanka.

It was almost as if Lucas were still in solitary confinement, finding himself waking up at the same time each day, alone each time, and going about the schedule the Grid had set up for him. He ate when he could, and he slept when the dreams were finished tormenting him. So maybe Lucas wanted nothing more than to see Alexa and Liam at happier times, hoping that would lift him up from the darkness.

He would have missed the photograph that had been slipped behind the sleeve of one that featured Alexa, Minerva and Nathaniel at a carnival had it not been for the mark of a leaf pressed between them. Lucas gingerly pulled at the hidden photograph, its image facing the back of the archival paper, preserved as if it had been taken yesterday.

The pressed leaf fluttered to the floor but Lucas ignored it.

He turned the photograph over. The faces that looked back at him were smiling broadly, distinguishable in a way that would identify them both as father and daughter. Lucas peered closely at the photograph, the beating of his heart thundering inside his chest, drowning out even his thoughts.

Alexa must have been about seven or eight, Lucas thought, her arms around the neck of a man whose features Lucas knew only too well now. They both had the same eyes, green and sparkling. Their smiles seemed to taunt Lucas and as he read the words scrawled beneath the margin, he recognized it as Russian.

"Uncle Val," it said, but scrawled next to it in a child's handwriting were the words _Papa_.

It was the timing of it all, he thought, remembering when Valentin first appeared in their lives, conveniently saving them at the brothel and looking at Alexa with a look that told him that they'd met before.

"Lucas," Ros' voice broke through Lucas' reverie and he glanced at her again, trying to bring himself back to the present. "I need you on my team one hundred percent. I can't afford any distractions," Ros said. "If you need to talk -"

"Then I'll call the psychologist at Tring myself, Ros," Lucas said curtly as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets and began to walk away. Before he reached the pods, Lucas turned to Ros, his blue eyes piercing in the low lights of the Grid.

"I just have one thing to ask of you and everyone here at Section D," Lucas said, his face showing no emotion at all. A hardness descended upon his pale face, his eyes haunted and shuttered of anything that he may have been thinking of.

"Anything, Lucas," Ros said, her lips curling at the corners faintly, but Lucas did not return her smile.

"Never speak of them again."


End file.
